Unexpected Places
by Luna the Zekrom
Summary: Following a conflict known as the Great Pyrrhian War, runaway IceWing Cornice meets SkyWing soldier-in-training Ozone. The two dragonets are totally different, but share a sense of dissatisfaction with the way their lives are going. Joining forces against a group of rebels called the Tribeless, they find new friendships in unexpected places.
1. Prologue

**AN: Hello, everyone! This new story, which takes place over a century after the first arc of Wings of Fire, completely disregards the events of the second arc for simplicity's sake, as I cannot predict the outcome of _Darkness of Dragons_ and don't want to contradict everything.**

 **Disclaimers: I don't own** ** _Wings of Fire_** **, but all of the characters in this story are of my own invention.**

 **Thank you for reading, please review, and most importantly, enjoy!**

The fiery light of sunset illuminated the open plains of the Ice Kingdom, making the blanket of snow covering them glitter like shattered amber. In the outskirts of the palace gardens, two IceWings sparred, their fighting patterns maintaining a fluid grace which spoke of years of practice.

The larger of the dragons fought offensively, while the smaller one ducked and blocked and rolled under her attacks until he found an opening to strike back. As he fought, his face was set in a grim mask, and the larger IceWing could tell that while his moves were as seamless as ever, he wasn't really paying attention.

"Cornice," she growled, leaping out of range of his attacks. Her tail lashed with frustration. "Where is your brain today?"

Breathing heavily, the smaller dragon ducked his head in embarrassment. "I got distracted," he muttered apologetically. "It won't happen again."

The older IceWing glared at him, her tail-tip twitching furiously. "It better not. If your ranking in the dragonet circles plummets, you'll bring the entire family down even further. More shame is the last thing I need right now."

Cornice flinched. "I know, Mother."

She sighed. Looking up at the sky, she took note of the encroaching darkness on the eastern horizon. "It's getting late. We might as well go home now. But I expect you to be able to concentrate tomorrow."

Cornice nodded gratefully. "I will," he promised.

His mother scooped up some snow in her talons and rubbed it against her scales to wash away the dark blue blood. Cornice, after waiting a moment longer to catch his breath, did likewise. They were careful not to actually injure each other as they trained, but a few scratches here and there were inevitable.

Besides, being battered in training toughened them up. The other tribes suffered from their unwillingness to use their talons outside of real combat—Cornice's mother had seen that in the Great Pyrrhian War. Their dragonets were always unprepared for witnessing bloodshed—whether it was their blood or the enemy's.

IceWings, on the other talon, were equally ready to fight regardless of whether it was their first battle or their hundredth. Though Pyrrhia had been at peace for many years now, Glissade knew that other dragons weren't the only danger lurking outside of the Ice Kingdom. She was determined to prepare her son for anything.

Once she and Cornice had cleaned up, they set off eastward. Used to the dazzle of direct sunlight on ice, they didn't need to squint even as they flew facing the setting sun, the light of which painted their snowy white scales a deep red.

It still stung to turn their backs on the queen's palace. They had lived there for the first three years of Cornice's life, until scandal had dragged down his parents' rank to the third circle, and they'd lost their right to reside there.

Since then, the family had lived in a network of caves near the sea, away from the city outer circle dragons usually occupied. His father insisted they benefitted from the privacy, but Cornice knew better than to believe him—privacy was just a euphemism for banishment from the rest of the nobility.

Cornice scowled as he and Glissade descended outside the cramped tunnels they called home. He felt a surge of lingering resentment at being forced to leave the palace whenever he saw it. He knew his mother hated it as much as he did—he could see her icy blue eyes darken when she looked at it, too—but she didn't complain. She seemed to have accepted that nothing would bring back the life they'd had.

As he stomped grumpily inside, Cornice encountered his father, who had just finished setting the table for dinner. Too late, Cornice remembered that it had been his turn to catch prey tonight. He glared accusingly down at the multitude of plates set out on the table, as if they were to blame for reminding him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father's tail twitch. "Did you forget?"

Cornice scowled silently, knowing a reply would be useless. When his father was annoyed, he always seemed to take it out on his son. It was better to just keep his mouth shut and endure the lecture silently.

His father seemed to take the sullen look on his face as disrespect.

"I expect you to go back out there right now," he snapped, throwing out one wing toward the door. "Don't come back until you've caught something."

"Fine," Cornice growled, unable to repress his spitefulness any longer. "I'll catch three fish. One for everyone who's _really_ part of this family."

"You'll catch enough for _everyone_ ," his father hissed. "Or I'll lock you out of the house and you'll have to sleep on an iceberg somewhere."

Glissade came inside just in time to hear the end of the exchange. Bristling, she shoved past Cornice in the narrow tunnel and advanced on her mate. "Sigma, don't you dare speak to my son that way!"

"I'm the highest ranked, here," he retorted. "I can talk to him however I want. If I tell him to go out and hunt, he'll go out and hunt."

"He's been training all day trying to restore the honor _your_ actions lost us," she snarled. "I'm not letting you send him out again. Go out yourself."

"Or send out one of my so-called 'siblings'," Cornice muttered bitterly, raising his eyes to stare with deliberate insolence at his father over his mother's shoulder. "It's not like they do anything important, with their practically nonexistent rankings."

Sigma lunged at him past Glissade, his face contorting with fury.

The older IceWing clenched his fists as he skidded to a halt, visibly restraining himself from slashing his ridged talons across his son's snout. Cornice didn't flinch or break his gaze even as Sigma crowded into his personal space, feeling a stab of savage satisfaction at antagonizing his father. A bubble of dark laughter rose in his gut, and he had to forcibly keep his expression neutral to prevent himself from smirking.

"Don't you DARE speak about your siblings that way," his father snarled.

"They're not my siblings," he spat back, lashing his tail. "No matter how much you try to pretend otherwise, they're not!"

"Go to your room, right now!" Sigma roared. "If you're too tired to go hunting, you're too tired to do anything else. Stay there until dinnertime."

"Fine," Cornice growled, stomping past him. As he stormed off down the tunnel where the bedrooms were, he was aware of the other dragonets' eyes on him—one pair hurt, one pair furious, and one pair concerned. He ignored them as he slammed his door shut and threw himself down furiously on his bed.

Closing his eyes, he felt his anger slowly give way to misery. He could hear Sigma and Glissade roaring at each other in the living room. It seemed that his parents were always fighting these days, usually because of him.

There were only a few months left until his seventh hatching day, when he would establish his own ranking in the adult circles. He'd thought he could hold out until then, when he could return to his old home in the palace. But he still hadn't been able to pull himself out of the third circle over the course of the last year, and it didn't look like he'd be able to do so in time. If he remained stuck here with the rest of his so-called family, would things ever get better?

All he'd wanted when he was younger was to become a first circle dragon, just like his father. But the scandal had dragged Sigma and the entire family into the third circle, which Queen Nunatak didn't seem inclined to promote Cornice out of.

 _I can't live like this anymore,_ he realized, burying his face in the polar bear fur of his bedding. He had to do something to change his life before it was too late. The only question was, what could he possibly do?

He couldn't change who his family members were. He couldn't change himself into a better hunter or stronger fighter. He couldn't change the fact that Queen Nunatak refused to promote him. It seemed his fate was to remain a minor noble, stuck in the same caves with the same dragons who he hated for at least another three-and-a-half years, until he turned ten, when he would finally be able to request his own place to live. As long as he was in the Ice Kingdom, everything about his life was set in stone.

 _What if I leave?_ The thought sounded drastic in his mind. He had heard stories about the rest of the continent, but that was all they were—stories. He had never been to the rest of Pyrrhia himself.

Yet escape from the slow but steady strangulation of the adult rankings closing in seemed necessary, and he found himself seriously considering the possibility.

 _But… if I leave, will I even be an IceWing anymore?_

Cornice contemplated the question, and realized that his desperation for change outweighed his sense of pride in his tribe and his identity.

 _I'm going,_ he decided. _Tonight, after dinner. When Father sends me back to my room, I'll fly out the window and never look back._

And so he did.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It's great to know this story is off to a good start. While it's always nice to hear what I've done well, I'd also like to know if there's something I'm _not_ doing well. Both positive and negative feedback are highly appreciated, as long as you keep them polite. :)**

The sky between the clouds flooded with warm amber light as the sun descended through them. Droplets of moisture from flying through the puffy white vapor glinted like tiny crystals against the deep red of a SkyWing's scales. His wings spread lazily to drift slowly on the wind, the dragon took some time to appreciate the otherworldly look of it. Throughout most of the day, the sky was blue, and during most of the night it was black, but for an hour in the morning and one in the evening, golden light bathed the heavens like some kind of intangible treasure.

There was an infinite amount of this kind of treasure, if one knew where to look. Whenever he could, Ozone slipped away to fill his senses in nature's beauty. He had an overabundance of it, memory after memory of breathtaking sights and calming sounds, but he couldn't deny his insatiable thirst for it.

Physical treasure, on the other talon, was something that he suspected he would never have much of. While other SkyWings his age were working hard for promotions among the army's ranks, Ozone was constantly distracted, content to wander, and had no ambition. And, as his commander said, not likely to make much of himself.

Her comments didn't bother him much, though. He had no interest in training drills or learning to fly in formation. Pyrrhia was at peace, and he doubted his position in the SkyWing's minimal force of troops would make any difference to his tribe. In fact, he doubted anything he did would make a difference to his tribe. SkyWings had little use or appreciation for any kind of dragon besides warriors.

Ozone respected that philosophy, despite its disparaging attitude towards him. If a dragon was courageous and powerful, he reasoned, no one would dare threaten him or anyone he loved. He just knew he would never make a good warrior and thus didn't see why he should bother trying. It was a lost cause.

But his mother disagreed, and so she had sent him to join the military after he'd turned seven and graduated from school. He supposed he had to try his best, at least when he could force himself to stand the training drills and flying in formation. It just got to be too much sometimes, and then he flew off by himself for a while. Commander Claret despised it when he did that, and always gave him a dagger-tongued lecture when he came back, but she was devoted to the wing of soldiers that she trained, and he knew that she would forgive him eventually.

Still, lingering away from the group for an extended period of time wouldn't make it better. Giving the golden sky one last appreciative look, he ducked beneath the clouds again and angled his wings toward the soldiers' base.

The camp was a network of caves that had been tunneled out of a sheer cliff face, which looked out across a vast river. Located on the "shoulder" of the dragon-shaped continent, it was the perfect vantage point between the Sky, Ice, and Sand Kingdoms. It was relatively well-hidden by the resilient population of pine trees which sprouted from whatever ledges could support their weight, but if one knew where to look, the entrance wasn't too difficult to find.

Ozone was glad that the area where they lived was so open, especially compared to the labyrinth of winding trails a little farther south, where the river broke off into smaller streams. It would be extremely challenging to navigate the harsh gusts coming through the narrower quarries, which acted as wind tunnels, on a daily basis. Claret brought the dragonets to train there sometimes, but they were for the most part spared from the ferocious winds and claustrophobic pressure of the ravine walls looming overhead on either side, so tall they seemed to angle in towards each other.

Ozone flew close to the rushing river as he headed home, feeling a bit disoriented as he looked down and saw the current rushing in the opposite direction from the way he was flying. The water churned and leaped up in places, reaching up in a vain attempt to snatch him out of the sky. Its restless surface glinted like malicious red eyes as it reflected the faint light left from the sunset. He was too high for it to reach him, but still angled his wings up to rise to a greater altitude just in case.

By the time he arrived, the sun had set and the sky been infused with darkness. The first few stars to appear in the sky reminded him, as they always did, of his favorite scroll from when he had first learned to read. In the story, an evil animus had stolen all the stars out of the sky, leaving it void of any of the constellations SkyWings relied on to navigate. To help guide the lost back home, dragons from all the fire-breathing tribes lit candles and set them in the sky, replacing the missing stars. One by one, the flames they held aloft filled in the dark emptiness and recreated the constellations.

Landing in the mouth of the cave that branched off into the barracks, he dared to hope that Claret had gone to sleep and that he could slip discreetly into the room he shared with Buzzard and Ridge.

His heart sank as his eyes made out the shapes of two dragonets sitting together against the far wall of the entrance cave. They appeared to have been waiting for him—after meeting his gaze, the larger of the two brushed wordlessly by him and winged away along the river, looking suspiciously smug.

Ozone turned his gaze questioningly to the smaller SkyWing. "I'm guessing you two were waiting to report me to Claret?" he asked, his tone resigned.

"Gale was," she replied in a pleasant tone, lighting one of the torches in the entry cave with a burst of flame. "I'm here for moral support."

Ozone sighed. "Thanks, Sard. I think I'm going to need it."

"Oh, you definitely will," his friend agreed, a bit too cheerfully. "Claret might just rip your wings off this time so you can't fly away from formation—though, actually, you wouldn't be able to fly _in_ formation that way either, so I guess she might let you off with just a warning. Still, Gale is such a tattletale. Say… you want me to fight her for you?"

Ozone smiled a bit despite himself. "You've been asking me that since the day we met. You could probably find a hundred better excuses to beat her up than fighting on my behalf—and get it done a lot quicker."

Sard shrugged, the firelight over-saturating her orange scales. "Just because you don't have any flame in your belly doesn't mean I can't have enough for both of us."

Ozone didn't respond to that. He knew Sard thought he wasn't assertive enough, but he personally thought it was better than being overly so like she was. He'd make a lot fewer enemies that way.

Sard's familiar mischievous grin flitted across her face as the sound of wingbeats filled the air. "Last chance to rethink your answer," she warned Ozone, but didn't seem surprised when he shook his head.

Claret landed with a thump in the mouth of the cave. Her burgundy scales looked almost black in the darkness, and he couldn't make out her expression, but Ozone thought he glimpsed a bit of smoke trailing ominously from her nostrils.

Gale touched down beside their commander, looking down her snout at Ozone with a superior smirk. Beside him, Sard shifted on her talons as if seriously considering punching the other dragonet in the face.

He flicked the edge of her wing warningly with his tail.

"Gale, Sardonyx," Claret said formally, inclining her head toward the two female dragonets. "You are dismissed. Ozone." She turned to face him, her fierce yellow eyes pinning him to the spot. "Stay here. I must speak to you."

Gale slithered off into the cave where the two female dragonets slept, while Sard lingered a moment longer to give Ozone a pitying look, mouthing 'good luck', before following her denmate.

 _So much for moral support,_ he thought wryly as he watched the tip of her orange tail disappear from sight, but he supposed he wouldn't have wanted to blatantly disobey Claret either if their positions had been switched. Mutual solidarity between SkyWing soldiers-in-training only went so far.

Ozone turned apprehensively to Claret, and saw that she was not looking at him, but down the tunnel after Gale and Sard. He wondered if that meant she was waiting for them to be out of earshot before yelling at him.

He hoped that wasn't what it meant.

"Ozone," she said at last, her voice caught somewhere between a growl and a sigh. "Hasn't even a _single_ word, from _any_ of the lectures I've ever given you, gotten through that thick skull of yours?"

The dragonet looked down at his talons. He knew from experience that trying to give an excuse, however true, would only make her angrier. It was better to stay silent and take the brunt of her wrath without complaint.

Claret hissed, and then shook her head furiously, smoke curling around her long black horns. "I'm starting to think I'll never be able to make you care."

Ozone remained silent.

"I've tried punishing you," his commander told him bluntly. "I've tried insulting you. I've tried appealing to your senses of responsibility and guilt. But I can't—I won't indulge you. It's dangerous to let a dragon think his actions have no consequences. This flying off whenever you get tired of discipline—it means that no dragon can trust you. If we were ever in a real war, what then? Would you fly off before a battle? Would you be too distracted to guard your fellow soldiers' backs?"

She paused for a moment to let this information sink in, her tail tip twitching. "If you go out on one more excursion during training, I'll have no choice but to expel you from the army. I hope you understand that."

"I do," he said, very quietly, without lifting his bowed head.

He risked a glance up at her face and saw that Claret looked dissatisfied with his response. She flared her nostrils, sending a thicker plume of smoke towards the ceiling of the cave. As Ozone followed it with his eyes, she looked up, noticed the cloud forming over her head, and proceeded to dispel it with a few powerful lashes of her tail.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

"Very well," she said at last. "You are dismissed."

Ozone nodded and turned away without meeting her gaze. He walked down the tunnel leading to the male dragonets' cave as quietly as he could, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Thankfully, Buzzard and Ridge were both fast asleep and snoring like cougars, so he didn't have to stop and talk to them. Ridge, friendly but practical, wouldn't give him a hard time about flying off, but Buzzard would be more vicious than usual when they sparred in training tomorrow.

Ozone withdrew to his section of the cave and curled up with his back against the cool stone wall, thinking about what Claret had said. He didn't doubt she'd meant it. _I need to force myself to work harder,_ he decided. _I can't let Mother down._

Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep, but with this new cloud of worry hanging over him, he found himself laying awake for most of the night.


	3. Chapter 2

"Time to get up," Gale snapped, unceremoniously thwacking her tail against the gong that stood by the door in the male dragonets' room. It let out a deep reverberating sound which penetrated Ozone's half-asleep mind and jerked him into full wakefulness. Groaning, he threw his wings over his head as Gale lit a torch with a blast of fire and the sudden brightness stabbed into his eyeballs.

The dragonets all took turns waking each other up in the mornings, by Claret's decree. None of them were happy about getting up a little extra early to wake the others, but Gale was particularly vindictive before sunrise.

Across the room, Buzzard raised his head irritably and let out the hissing noise which usually preceded fire. Gale leapt hurriedly back into the hallway. Ozone had no doubt she would be back soon, as not to be punished for letting them oversleep, but for now they had a couple of minutes of reprieve.

His brain drifted hazily back into sleep, and what felt like only seconds later, he was being shaken awake by Ridge. The red-orange dragonet was the only one who was perfectly fine with early mornings; no matter what time Ozone woke him, he'd open his eyes and get up as easily if he had never been asleep at all. On days when it was Ozone's turn to wake them, Sard would usually grumble and stuff her wings in her ears, Gale would give a murderous glare, and Buzzard would throw things at him.

"C'mon," Ridge said. "You don't want Claret to be mad, do you?"

Ozone got reluctantly to his feet and stretched, blinking blearily. It was common sense to him that one should rise with the sun, not get up when it was still dark outside, but Claret disagreed. She insisted that the early hours were for warming up, and regular training exercises started at sunrise.

Ridge moved over to Buzzard and shook the pale orange dragonet next. Buzzard snapped his teeth irritably at Ridge, but it wasn't long before he was up as well.

When the three male dragonets plodded into the entrance cave, Claret, Sard, and Gale were waiting for them. Claret was the only one who looked alert; Sard yawned and blinked sleepily, while Gale scowled, her forehead furrowed grumpily.

"It's about time," Claret said, turning and leaping into the sky. The five dragonets followed her wordlessly into the brisk morning air.

As they flew, they shifted into their usual positions, Gale and Buzzard taking the lead alongside Claret, Ozone angling his wings to fly alongside Sard, and Ridge slowing to glide amicably behind everyone else.

"Are you sure you don't want me to fight Gale?" Sard asked, by way of greeting. "She was awfully nasty this morning. I mean, she always is, but I think her particular indecency today merits a beating. Your thoughts?"

"I'm sure," Ozone responded with a smile.

"Goody two-claws." Sard stuck out her forked tongue.

"Is it just me," Ridge asked from behind them, "or does it look like there's a storm on the way?" Ozone glanced back over his shoulder and found the red-orange dragonet looking up at the sky with a thoughtful expression.

Ozone followed his gaze. The sky had begun to lighten, making the stars difficult to see now, but they were particularly faint near the horizon, where they appeared to be partially obscured by clouds. The very edge of the sky was fringed with dark gray.

Sard, likewise, was studying the potential storm. "I think so," she said, wrinkling her snout at it. "I hope Claret doesn't make us continue training once it hits."

"Me too," Ridge agreed, his wings shivering slightly. "But if she does, I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it."

Ozone didn't particularly mind, either way. SkyWings could handle bad weather fairly well due to their large wingspan. Though it was rather challenging to see through heavy rainfall, he thought it might be helpful to learn how to navigate tempest winds. Besides, Claret couldn't blame him for deserting if they _happened_ to blow him away, could she? Unfortunately, he doubted it would work out for him that way.

"Time to warm up!" Claret called back to the dragonets in the sharp, no-nonsense voice she used during training. She made a graceful arc in the air so that she was facing them, beating her long wings rhythmically to hover.

"To that mountain and back three times, as fast as you can," she commanded, pointing to the destination with one talon. She waited for them to arrange themselves in a line, their shoulders tensing as they listened for her signal. "Go!"

Ozone spread his wings as wide as he could, feeling the wind rush beneath them and carry him forward. He flapped in confident, smooth strokes. He felt Buzzard and Gale pressing in close to him, but for now he was in the lead.

When they reached the mountain, he had to slow a little to turn. Sard, who was the smallest dragonet, could easily whip around and keep flying without losing much momentum, but for the rest of them it was trickier. Buzzard in particular, as the largest of the group, tended to lag behind when it came time to make a sharp turn.

The pale orange dragonet angled his wings, swerving around Gale and Ozone in a deep banking turn. Ozone had to stop suddenly so they wouldn't crash.

As he angled himself back into an upright position, Buzzard clouted Ozone with one massive wing, knocking the red-and-gold dragonet off balance. He flapped wildly to avoid falling and fell behind Gale, whose pinkish-red tail smacked him across the face as she whirled around elegantly in midair.

Ozone rubbed his snout and did his best to keep going, even as he saw Gale and Buzzard glance back with matching expressions of wicked satisfaction.

They would never risk Claret's fury by conspicuously picking on Ozone, but they weren't above sabotaging him during training. He never knew if they coordinated their efforts or not, but the bullying was particularly brutal when they were both going after him on the same day. While Buzzard only seemed to do it as retaliation when Ozone flew away from training, Gale maintained some kind of lingering resentment towards him and seized whatever opportunities presented themselves to harass him.

Claret, who didn't seem to have noticed the other dragonets' undermining, gave Ozone a sour look as he reached her a considerable distance behind everyone else. He ducked his head apologetically and set off for the mountain again, this time lifting his wings to fly above the other dragonets.

Though he was still the last back by the third flight, he managed to significantly lessen the distance between himself and the others. As her yellow gaze swept over the arriving dragonets, Claret gave him an approving nod. Gale noticed this and scowled, smoke beginning to trail from her nostrils.

"All right," Claret called. "Now we're moving on to battle practice. Ozone, you're with me. Sardonyx, you're fighting Buzzard. And Ridge, you're against Gale."

Ozone felt his shoulders relax in relief. Not being matched up against Buzzard or Gale had been more than he'd thought he could hope for. Based on the knowing glint in Claret's eyes, he guessed she was deliberately sparing him. She was stronger than any of the dragonets, but at least she didn't hold a grudge.

Ridge glanced at Gale, who snorted, still looking annoyed, but didn't complain as she turned to face the red-orange dragonet.

"Ha," Buzzard said, looking down his snout at Sard in scornful amusement. "This should be fun. I'll crush you like a bug."

The smaller orange SkyWing tossed her head proudly. "I wouldn't be too sure of that." She held up her talons, ready to spar.

Ozone turned his attention back to Claret, finding her watching him with as much patience as she could muster. "Sorry, I'm ready now," he said hurriedly.

The dark red SkyWing suddenly flared her wings, lunging for him as he flinched away instinctively. Ozone raised his arms just in time to parry her strike, flipping head over talons background in midair to aim a blast of smoke at her belly.

Claret lifted her wings just in time to glide upward out of range, but paused to give him an approving nod. She had been helping Ozone work on that particular block and strike combination for almost a week now. He seemed to finally have committed the motions to memory efficiently enough to act on them off reflex.

Knowing she would want him to use a follow-up attack, Ozone beat his wings in a powerful sweep and rammed his shoulder against Claret's ribs. She grunted as the force of the impact knocked the wind out of her.

Ozone struck out at her snout, keeping his talons carefully curled so that his knuckles hit her instead of his claws, and then rolled aside in midair, dodging the plume of smoke he'd known would be coming the moment she caught her breath.

Claret strictly prohibited the use of fire while training, replacing the dangerous flames with relatively harmless smoke. The dragonets would still feel the heat enough to know whether they would be burned in a real battle, without the painful blistering scars that would accompany fire. Claret was far from soft with her trainees, but she wasn't harsh enough to actually injure them.

The warmth scorched the air close to his back spikes, but he seemed to have been able to narrowly avoid the smoke. Ozone shifted his wings to face his commander again, but he was too slow, and looked up just in time to get punched in the face with the claw at the bend in her wing. Whirling with the momentum of her strike, she swatted him over the horns with a whip of her tail.

Blinking away pain, Ozone ducked beneath the onslaught of strikes and swooped under Claret, wheeling around to blast smoke at her as she turned toward him.

Claret swerved in time to avoid the brunt of it, though a few wisps eddied around one of her hind feet. She let out a hiss of discomfort as the heat prickled at her scales.

Ozone propelled himself forward with a sweep of his wings, aiming for her throat, but Claret met his claws with her own, catching his fists in her larger ones. With a gruff sound of satisfaction, she deflected his wings with her hind talons and seized his horns in her wing-claws, flipping backwards and sending him flying over her head.

Dazed by the sudden shift in his ear fluid, he couldn't find the strength to resist as she adjusted her grip to grab his shoulders and shoved her full weight down on him. He struggled to escape her grip as they began plummeting towards the rocky cliffs.

Even before Claret reached the stone wall, Ozone realized that his efforts would only end in painful failure if he continued flailing. He stopped fighting, instead tucking his head to his chest in an attempt to brace himself for impact.

Letting go just in time so that she wouldn't smash him into the sheer cliff-face, Claret lifted her wings and flew upward.

Shaky with relief that she hadn't actually pounded him, Ozone spread his wings to glide and catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that his wingtips were noticeably trembling, and he flapped them to shake out the tension.

Claret circled overhead once, making sure he was okay, before shifting her wings to fly over to where the other pairs were still sparring.

Gale and Ridge circled each other, darting in to land a blow whenever they could; they seemed about evenly matched, Ridge's more agile build allowing him to avoid the larger weight behind Gale's attacks.

Ozone's gaze drifted to Sard, whose red wings fluttered rapidly like a sparrow's as she darted behind Buzzard and tugged his tail, her claws piercing the sensitive spot near the tip. The larger orange dragon roared and whipped his neck around to blast smoke at her, but she was too quick and dodged away with a cheeky smile.

"You were right, Buzzard!" she called cheerfully. "This is fun!"

He snorted, shaking his head in frustration. Spotting Ozone watching them, he called down to the red-and-gold dragonet. "Why are you just hovering there uselessly? Come up here and help me!"

Ozone obligingly lifted his wings to join them. He curled his claws in and shifted into a fighting stance, waiting for the larger SkyWing's signal.

Sard eyed them warily from a short distance away, where she was gliding around in a series of small looping circles.

Buzzard waited for a long, suspenseful moment.

Then he flicked his tail and then lunged at her from the right, leaving Ozone to attack from the left. He was a moment late to react, but was still able to block Sard as she tried to escape from Buzzard's strike. He grabbed her snout in his talons and held it shut to prevent her from spewing smoke at him. Outraged, she let out a muffled growl and smacked him over the head with her red wings.

Buzzard punched her in the ear, sending her reeling off balance, and then seized her by the shoulders when Ozone released her snout, pummeling her back with his big orange wings. Ozone fell back as not to annoy him by getting in his way.

"Uncle!" Sard yelped. "I surrender, you cheating piles of gizzards!"

Buzzard let go, giving a gruff laugh of satisfaction. "Thanks, Ozone."

"No problem," the red SkyWing replied, ducking his head.

"This is totally a problem," Sard yelled, flapping her wings at him indignantly. "I am totally waking you up unnecessarily early tomorrow!"

It _was_ her turn tomorrow, he realized. Still, it was worth it to get Buzzard off his back for the rest of the day, when his anger might have dragged on much longer if Ozone hadn't helped him defeat Sard.

Besides, there was only about a fifty-percent chance that she would actually carry out her threat. He knew that despite her loud protests, she wasn't actually angry at him.

Claret flew over to them with Ridge and Gale following close behind.

"Now that we're done warming up," their commander announced, "we're going to learn some new battle moves. Line up, everyone!"

They fell into their familiar places, hovering in a horizontal line in front of Claret, while she demonstrated the new attack and defense maneuvers. Ozone tried his best to concentrate through the large chunk of time which passed without any break. After several hours, though, he felt his focus fading. Rainy days, when he felt especially tired, made it even more difficult to concentrate than usual.

To his relief, as the clouds blew in closer and the wind grew harsher, Claret called off the rest of the day's training due to the inclement weather conditions and led the way back to their base. Ozone wasn't sure if it was the static electricity in the air from the building storm or unrelieved tension from training which made his wings restless as he followed the others into the cave.

As the dragonets all stomped into the tunnels, too tired to gripe at each other any longer, Claret slithered off to retrieve some prey from storage to eat for lunch.

Buzzard lit the torch in the entryway with a burst of flame, and all of them began the process of drying themselves off. Sard shook herself grandly, scattering droplets of water everywhere. Ridge leaped back out of range before it could hit him, but the other three were pelted by the spray.

Ozone wrinkled his snout, blinking water out of his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw Gale glowering eloquently as she wrung out her waterlogged wings.

"I'm going to go eat," Buzzard growled, equally irritated. "If you don't want your wings ripped off, then I'd suggest not following me right away." With that, he stomped off down the tunnel, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake.

Ozone lifted his wings closer to the torch, allowing the flames to dry the rainwater from his soaked skin. He relaxed as the warmth seeped into his sore muscles.

Then a flash of lightning suddenly split the sky, making him jump.

Sard tilted her head at him, looking slightly concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ozone assured her. "The lightning startled me, that's all."

But as they finished drying themselves off and walked to the kitchen to join the others for lunch, Ozone couldn't help dwelling on it. Had he just imagined it, or had the flash really illuminated the silhouette of a dragon flying through the storm?


	4. Chapter 3

"Time to wake up!" sang Sard cheerfully, pouncing on Ozone's back.

He blinked blearily awake and shoved her off with as much coordination as he could muster so early in the morning. He then closed his eyes again, hearing her snicker to herself in self-satisfaction as she went over to wake up Buzzard.

"Don't you dare—" Buzzard started to growl, having been woken by Sard's assault on Ozone, but it was too late. Ozone forced his tired eyes open a slit just in time to see Sard pin Buzzard's mouth shut with one set of talons and use the other to grab his ear, which she shouted "Rise and SHINE!" into at an unnecessarily loud volume.

Ozone suppressed a sigh and let his eyes slide shut again. Today was going to be a long day. Days when Sard caused mischief this early in the morning always were.

Buzzard let out a muffled roar of outrage, and a scuffling sound followed, as if he was trying to hit her with his wings. Sard's ensuing laughter seemed to indicate that his attempts remained unsuccessful.

"Your friend is merciless," observed Ridge, who had already been awake and had therefore been spared Sard's annoying wake-up call.

"Tell me about it," Ozone grumbled, rubbing his forehead. He peeled one eyelid open again and saw that it was still dark in their cave. Thankfully, it seemed that Sard hadn't carried out her threat of waking him up earlier than usual.

It had rained the entirety of the previous day, and while Claret had continued their lessons as best as she could in the largest cave, there was only enough room for two or three of them to practice moves at a time, making it largely inefficient compared to outdoor training. Ozone had been grateful for the opportunity to rest between exercises, but the confining space made him almost as antsy as ceaseless practice.

When the dragonets gathered in the entrance cave, they found that the downpour continued to rage on. Claret announced that she had called off training for the day, but that she expected them to sign into the exercise cave for at least an hour in the morning and an hour sometime after lunch. She then dismissed them, instructing them to come to the kitchen for breakfast when she called, and slithered away.

In her absence, their second supervisor sidled into the entrance cave. "Are you all staying in on account of the storm blowing in?"

Ridge nodded, but neither he nor any of the other dragonets spoke. They tended to be as taciturn as possible around this particular soldier. Even when you didn't speak at all, he was bound to twist your response some way or another.

The older SkyWing flared his nostrils contemptuously. "In my day, we trained no matter what the weather. Claret's making the lot of you soft."

After a moment of silence, Ridge murmured a noncommittal yet polite response. Ozone noticed Gale roll her eyes at Buzzard, whose tail-tip was twitching in annoyance. Sard's nostrils were trailing smoke, as if she were biting back a furious retort.

The last SkyWing who lived with them in the base was Spark, a veteran from the Great Pyrrhian War. He was old, prejudiced, and long-winded in his stories about why the other tribes couldn't be trusted. For these reasons, the other dragonets didn't like talking to him when they could avoid it, but Ozone didn't mind.

"Soldier training used to be serious," Spark said, in a tone that heralded lecturing. "If you didn't discipline your dragons, they'd die in battles. Training these days… pffft, what a joke! When those snakes on the other side of the border decide to attack us, you lot won't be able to accomplish more than scavengers!"

"I doubt you'd be able to do much more, old pigeon-brain," Gale muttered under her breath, but Spark was a bit deaf and thankfully didn't seem to hear her.

"What makes you so sure they'll attack us?" Ozone asked, to cover what she had said just in case. He heard Buzzard bite back a sigh just as Sard stomped on his talons. He winced and swatted her with his tail as subtly as he could.

Spark re-adjusted his wings, getting ready for a long explanation. "You can't trust dragons from other tribes, and that's the simple truth! Can't reason with 'em. They just don't think the same way. Us SkyWings, we're good, loyal dragons. But the other tribes will backstab you whenever they get the chance. Always looking to take something from you. Especially them SandWings couple miles out west. And NightWings—can't trust those seers; always got an ulterior motive."

Ozone nodded to pacify him. He sometimes found it difficult to tell exactly what Spark was rambling on about, but he knew from experience that he wasn't expected to respond. Conversations with Spark were basically one-sided.

"Breakfast is ready," Claret's voice called from one of the far caves. "If you don't want it burned, come and get it now!"

The dragonets hurried off gratefully, except for Ozone, who lingered behind with Spark. He didn't want to get in the way as everyone squabbled over prey. Sard and Gale were known to fight over anything and everything possible, and Buzzard had a tendency to stomp on Ozone's talons if he took too long deciding what he wanted to eat.

"Hmph," grumbled the old dragon. "Dragonets these days, always impatient. No respect for anyone. Now, if _I_ were their commander instead, they would be catching and cooking their own prey, regardless of how windy it was. Yes, that's what my commander always made us do, back in my day."

"I'm sure it made you very resilient," Ozone commented as agreeably as he could, and then glanced away, momentarily preoccupied by a rumble of thunder from outside.

"Very resilient indeed," Spark said, ruffling his orange-and-gold wings proudly and taking no notice of Ozone's distraction. "Claret should be training those dragonets of hers to be that independent."

"I guess she just likes to help us whenever she can," Ozone reasoned. Sometimes Spark seemed to forget that he was one of "those dragonets of hers", so he didn't let the older dragon's criticism bother him.

"Bah," Spark said, with a dismissive lash of his tail. "Now, if she really wanted to help you, she'd teach the lot of you to fend for yourselves."

"Perhaps you could teach us," suggested Ozone.

Spark squinted at him suspiciously, seeming uncertain about whether to interpret his comment as sass. Ozone held the old dragon's gaze with as much polite respect as he could muster, but he wasn't sure it was quite convincing.

"Teaching you is her job, not mine," Spark grumbled at last. "If Claret wants to spoil you, not much I can do about that. Now go on and join the rest of your friends, or you'll have to catch your own prey. Three moons know you'd never be able to do it in this weather." The jibe was clearly retaliation for the perceived sarcasm, but Ozone let it pass over him without getting offended. It was probably true.

He went to the exercise cave immediately after breakfast, knowing that he would probably forget otherwise. Thankfully, none of the other dragonets wanted to practice so early in the morning, so was left to train in rather peaceful silence.

It rained for the rest of the day, leaving Ozone with a lot of thoughts and not a lot to do after he finished training. After dinner, while Sard curled up in her dormitory to take a nap, Gale and Buzzard went off to the largest cave to spar, and Ridge stood guard at the base's entrance, Ozone wandered the network of caves, trying not to think too much about how confining it was.

Eventually he gave up and decided to go to Claret for permission to go out. She'd probably think him brainless for wanting to struggle against the raging winds, but at this point anything was better than staying inside.

He found her in the kitchen, reading an official-looking scroll that had likely been sent by one of her military superiors and had probably arrived the previous morning before the storm hit. Ozone waited in the doorway for Claret to notice him, not wanting to interrupt something important.

After about a minute, she looked up. "What is it?"

"May I have permission to fly around outside for a while?" he asked.

"Do you have pigeon down for brains?" Claret asked. "It's raining like the wrath of war out there." She looked him up and down with keen yellow eyes and seemed to realize how antsy he had gotten. "Very well, you may go. But I expect you to keep up in training tomorrow regardless of how tired you are. Is that clear?"

Ozone nodded vigorously. "Thank you."

He hurried off to the entrance cave, where he encountered Ridge. The red-orange dragonet gave him a dubious look. "You're going outside?"

"Just for a little while," Ozone told him.

"All right," Ridge said, folding his wings back. "But I would fly low if I were you. You might get struck by lightning if you're up too high."

"I will," Ozone promised. Despite the ominous warning, however, he couldn't feel anything but relief at the thought of being out in the open sky. He leapt out of the cave, relaxing as the cool wet air enveloped his wings.

The storm winds were fierce, and Ozone could see the trees along the walls of the gorge being whipped around. The waves churned in the river beneath him as if being struck repeatedly by a hundred SeaWings' tails.

Ozone flapped his wings as powerfully as he could, battling the winds for control. The other tribes would have been easily blown away in these conditions, but a SkyWing like Ozone could fly in them at least somewhat successfully.

He set off down the valley, flying low as Ridge had suggested but also flying over the trees on the side of the gorge instead of directly above the river. A particularly tall wave would easily conduct electricity, and he didn't want to be in the way if one did.

As he began to adjust to the howling winds, Ozone let his mind drift. The storm swirling overhead caught his eye, and he gazed up at the sky thoughtfully, studying its soft gray depths. He wondered how clouds so tranquil-looking could conceal something as dangerous and unpredictable as lightning.

The thought reminded him of the silhouette he had seen illuminated by the storm the day before. He didn't think he had imagined it, but he was so prone to daydreaming that he couldn't quite be sure he hadn't. Only now did it occur to him that he probably should have reported it. Regardless of whether Claret would believe him, reporting any suspicious occurrences was the responsible thing to do.

Ozone frowned, wishing that he could think of these things when they were actually relevant and important.

After a while, his wings began to ache. Normally, SkyWings didn't get tired, even after flying for hours, but navigating storm winds was a particularly draining task.

Realizing that he was too far from the base to get back without exerting himself, Ozone decided to find a cave to rest in. The gorge and the surrounding cliffs were made out of sheer rock, and it was difficult to find an opening in their walls large enough for a dragon to fit into, but eventually, he located a decently large cavern and soared into it. Grateful for the shelter from the unforgiving rain, Ozone shook out his drenched and aching wings, scattering droplets of water everywhere.

A displeased grunt from the depths of the cave caught his attention. Whirling around in surprise, he peered into the darkness with wide orange eyes. He stood very still, listening for the sound of breathing, but it was impossible to hear anything over the sound of the rain and wind outside.

"Is someone there?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," growled a menacing voice, with an unfamiliar accent which indicated that it didn't belong to a SkyWing. "And I'm not afraid to fight you."


	5. Chapter 4

"I don't want to fight you," Ozone said hurriedly, ducking his head and tucking in his wings to look as small and nonthreatening as possible. "I'm just here to shelter from the storm for a little while. I'll get going soon enough. Or now, if you want."

There was a long pause.

Then the other dragon asked, "Are you a SkyWing?"

"Yes," he answered, glancing down at his red and gold scales. Perhaps in the faint lighting it was difficult for the other dragon to tell, even when Ozone was standing closer to the mouth of the cave. "Are you?"

The other dragon remained silent, as if he didn't want to answer. At least, Ozone thought it was a he, though the relatively high-pitched voice made it difficult to tell.

"I didn't think so," Ozone said thoughtfully.

"And you're not going to do anything about it?" the dragon asked disbelievingly.

"Not unless you're planning to hurt my tribe," he replied, tilting his head to one side. "But since you seem to be alone, I doubt that's the case."

"Hmm," the other dragon said noncommittally.

"It's not—is it?" Ozone blinked a little anxiously.

"No," the other dragon replied. "But why should you believe me?"

The SkyWing shrugged. "No reason not to."

"I thought SkyWings were supposed to be a tribe of warriors," the other dragon commented, his tone scathing. "You seem to be pretty dumb for one."

Ozone considered his words for a long moment. Was it dumb to give someone the benefit of the doubt? Maybe if you were supposed to consider everyone a suspect. But that seemed impractical to him. He personally thought you would lose a lot of potential allies if you treated them all as enemies.

"Seriously?" the other dragon said. "You're not offended by that?"

"Not particularly," Ozone replied, his mind already wandering to other things. "Do you mind if I stay in your cave until the rain eases off a little? My wings were so waterlogged before I found this place that they felt like they were about to fall off."

"I can't stop you," the other dragon answered, his tone so faintly contemptuous that Ozone wasn't sure if he'd imagined it. "This is your kingdom, not mine."

"You could if you really wanted to," the SkyWing mused, more to himself than to the other dragon. "Claws still hurt regardless of whose territory you're on."

"Ah," the voice said, tinged faintly with embarrassment. "About that. I know I said I wasn't afraid to fight you, but the truth is I can't move all that well right now. I injured my wing yesterday and I've been stuck here ever since. Since you're here, and not going to tell any of your tribe-mates to chase me off, maybe you could… help?"

 _He's rather quick to confide in me, considering he called me stupid for trusting him,_ Ozone thought, drumming his claws on the rocky floor absentmindedly. _Or maybe he feels more desperate than his tone is letting on._

"Sure. I'll do what I can," he accepted. There seemed to be no harm in it.

"Thanks," the other dragon replied. His tone was a bit grudging, but behind that, Ozone thought he heard a tinge of relief.

"You'll have to come closer to the light so I can see what's wrong, though," he told the injured dragon, already trying to think of a way to subtly ask Ridge how to treat the wound. The red-orange dragonet was much better at first-aid than he was. In fact, he was much better at pretty much everything than Ozone was.

"There's some wood back here," the other dragon reported. "Someone else must have used this cave as shelter before. You can use that to light a fire so you can see better if you want. SkyWings are one of the tribes with fire, right?"

"Right," Ozone said, puzzled. Had this dragon never left his kingdom before? It seemed impossible that anyone would know so little about the other tribes.

"Here." There was a splintering sound as the other dragon batted the wood with his talons, and a few logs came skidding over to rest at Ozone's feet. He nudged them a short distance away from him and arranged them as quickly as he could into a decent fire structure before setting them alight. The flames blazed up brightly before subsiding into a more controlled flicker.

Satisfied, Ozone looked up to see the other dragon. The light revealed that he had pure white scales and angular blue eyes, a narrow face, a long glistening mane of spikes, and a whip-thin tail, which was curled around wickedly sharp talons.

"So you're an IceWing," he said. "I've never seen one before."

"I've never seen a SkyWing before either," the white dragon responded, sounding guarded but intrigued. "What's your name?"

"Ozone," he answered. "What's yours?"

"Cornice," the IceWing said. The name was strikingly unfamiliar to Ozone, not only in its meaning but also the softness of the pronunciation, which sounded like a faint hiss. SkyWing names were typically harder, like the crackling of fire.

"What are you doing here in the mountains?" the red dragon asked. "I thought I remembered learning that IceWings hardly ever left their kingdom."

"We don't," Cornice growled shortly.

Ozone tilted his head to one side. "Then why did you?"

"If I don't tell you, are you going to change your mind about helping me?" The IceWing sounded bitter but resigned. He flared his nostrils, a faint trail of frost-breath rising from them the way smoke did from a SkyWing's when he was annoyed.

"No," Ozone responded, puzzled. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He was just curious.

"In that case, I'd rather not say," the white dragon said, firelight dazzling off his horns as he turned his head away. "We've just met. I'm not going to share my entire life story with a stranger, no matter how…" He trailed off, seeming to realize that whatever comment he was going to make would be insulting.

"How what?" Ozone prompted, his curiosity getting the better of him. And there was something about hearing the IceWing talk that was intriguing. His voice sounded to Ozone a bit like music—not the war drums the SkyWings played, but like the flutes he had heard SandWings play or like wolves howling.

"Nothing." Cornice's voice was perfectly even now, no emotion behind his words. Ozone realized that Cornice had been consistently speaking without a pained edge to his voice, despite his supposed wounds. Had the IceWing been lying about being injured, or was he simply very good at hiding it?

"So what happened to your wing?" he asked.

"I was flying through the storm," Cornice explained, "and I somehow got caught in a particularly fierce wind tunnel. We have mountains in the Ice Kingdom, too, so I thought I could handle it, but yours are a lot taller and the valleys a lot narrower. I got swept right into a cliff by the wind."

"Can I see?" Ozone asked, moving around the fire to get a better look.

The spikes along Cornice's back bristled slightly, as if Ozone's approach made him somewhat uncomfortable, but the IceWing didn't protest as he lifted his left wing and unfolded it about halfway. "That's as far as I can open it."

Ozone reached out his talons and ran them lightly along the white dragon's cold scales. Cornice stood perfectly still through the inspection, keeping his face turned away but watching out of the corner of one eye.

Ozone was struck then by how blue Cornice's eyes were. Not pale like ice, but as vivid as the summer sky.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, as his talons passed over an area that looked slightly bluish against the otherwise stark white of the IceWing's scales. There was a dark blue substance encrusted over the scales near the joint that would be the wrist if the limb were an arm rather than a wing. Ozone couldn't tell what it was.

"A little," Cornice responded, but Ozone took note of the way his tone had gotten harder and slightly more brittle, like ice about to crack, and guessed that his touch was more painful than the white dragon was letting on.

Ozone peered closer at the blue substance, turning the observations over in his mind and putting them together in a different way. "Is that blood?"

Cornice nodded. "I think my wing membrane is torn."

"The joint looks dislocated, too," Ozone said, removing his talons from it. "That's probably from the impact, and the tear was likely caused by sharp stones."

"It sounds like you know what you're talking about," the IceWing said, turning to face Ozone again and narrowing his eyes. "Can you fix it?"

Ozone thought about it. He was fairly sure he knew the procedure for mending dislocated joints—less so that he could carry it out himself. The tear was just a matter of proper bandaging so that the wing membrane wouldn't be torn open further by flying as they waited for it to heal. "I think so."

Cornice's brow furrowed into a scowl. "That's not very reassuring. But I suppose I have no other choice than to trust you, SkyWing. Don't make me regret it."

Ozone felt a tingle run up his spine, as if something within him had shifted ever-so-slightly into a better position, finally settling into place. He couldn't explain why, but a part of him wanted very much for this mysterious foreign stranger to be his friend.

 _I'll try not to,_ he would have said to any other dragon.

To Cornice, he said, "I won't."

* * *

 **AN: I've noticed that it's gotten a little quiet on the readers' end of this story. I know that it's still being read, but I haven't gotten any reviews on the last two chapters and I'm not exactly sure why that is. If you're losing interest, please give me some feedback so I can try to fix what I'm doing wrong. If you are still interested, please let me know! Even super short reviews would mean the world to me.** **I** **'m not going to withhold the chapters I have pre-written due to the lack of reviews, but feedback gives me motivation to keep writing that is otherwise difficult for me to keep up, and the silence is starting to discourage me.**

 **Furthermore, I have a question for you. The next chapter is considerably longer than any of the previous ones, so would you rather me break it up into "Chapter 5 Part 1" and "Chapter Five Part 2", or just post it all together? Please let me know your opinion!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: I'm sorry about the long wait for this chapter! I had it prewritten, but was dissatisfied with how it turned out, so I held off posting it for a while so I could improve it. I'm still not completely happy with it, though, so I'd especially like constructive criticism on this chapter so that I can tweak it later. Reviews help me see what I'm doing right and doing wrong, so even extremely short feedback (a sentence or two), positive or negative, is highly appreciated.**

 **Thank you so much for your continuous support, especially the people who reviewed the last chapter. You motivate me to keep writing!**

* * *

For better or for worse, the rain had mostly eased off by the time Ozone returned to the soldiers' base. That would make it easier to get back to Cornice the next day with some healing supplies, but harder to justify his flying off. Ozone knew that he couldn't abandon training—he'd taken Claret's warning of expulsion to heart—but he wasn't sure if she would give him permission to leave after practice.

He had stayed with Cornice for a period of awkward silence while he waited for his wings to dry out. It seemed neither of them was very talkative.

Eventually, Ozone had been the one to break the silence.

"I won't be able to come back for a while," he'd warned. "My commander will be after my tail if I ask to go out again later today. She already thinks I'm rock-headed for wanting to go flying in this weather."

"After what happened to me, I'm inclined to agree with her," Cornice muttered, scowling at his wounded wing.

"You'll be okay until tomorrow, right?" Ozone gave the injury a concerned look. "That's the earliest I'll be able to get out. Your wound doesn't look infected, but you'll have to keep it clean so that it doesn't get that way."

"The rain should have washed it out," the white dragon reasoned. "My tribe will usually use snow to clean our wounds, so rain should serve the same function. Snow and rain are basically the same thing, right?"

"More or less," Ozone agreed. Now that he thought about it, it was probably too cold for rain in the Ice Kingdom, like it was the highest mountain peaks.

Cornice was remarkably adaptable, he thought, for one who had such little prior knowledge about any kingdom but his own. The IceWing had probably never seen rain, or a rock formation like the gorge, or any of the kinds of animals which populated the Sky Kingdom's mountains.

Ozone knew he'd be completely lost in the same situation, which reminded him why he needed to _not_ be expelled from the army.

"I should go now," he told Cornice, glancing out at the overcast sky. It was still the same shade of smoky gray, but he had probably been away from the base longer than it seemed. It was difficult to tell time accurately without being able to see the angle of the sun or the color of its light.

"All right," the ice dragon had responded, seeming completely unbothered about being left alone again in unfamiliar territory. Ozone remembered wondering how the other dragonet could be so calm.

"You survived," Ridge greeted him now, as the red-and-gold SkyWing landed in the entrance cave and shook out his wings to dry them. His expression looked relieved, and Ozone guessed that he was only half joking.

"My wings got drenched quickly," Ozone told the smaller dragonet. "I had to take a break and rest so they would dry, so that kept me out longer than I expected. Sorry if I worried you or any of the others."

"Claret hasn't come by looking for your head," Ridge reported, "so I don't think she's too worried yet. You should let her know you're back, though."

It turned out that Claret wasn't worried because she was still highly engrossed by the letter she had been reading when Ozone had left, even though it didn't look like it was very long. Once she realized how late it was getting, she scolded him for staying out so long in the rain and ordered him to go warm up before he caught pneumonia.

But the real information that Ozone gleaned from the conversation was that the letter must be considerably more important than the boring formalities Claret usually exchanged with her fellow commanders and military superiors. So he couldn't say he was very surprised the next morning when Claret called a troop meeting.

"I received a letter from the head of the queen's guard," she announced, pacing in a slow line in front of the dragonets, who were standing alertly in a row as they listened. "Apparently, the SandWings have recently established a military base near the border which is similar to ours. Queen Ibex has instructed that we go out on a mission to meet up with them, our peacetime acquaintances, so that we can learn from each other." She paused at the end of the line, her yellow eyes unreadable as they scanned the dragonets' faces to make sure they were paying attention.

Satisfied, she turned around and started to slither back the way she had come. "Queen Chaparral of the SandWings is aware of and has agreed to this arrangement. We are to meet her tribe's soldiers-in-training as friends, to share our experience and learn about each others' culture. Any questions?"

"How do we know we can trust them?" Gale asked sharply. "With all due respect, weren't they our enemies in the Great Pyrrhian War?"

"Sounds like someone's been listening a little too closely to Spark's stories," Sard whispered to Ozone, who covered his nose with his wing to conceal his snort.

Gale gave them a suspicious look.

"Perhaps," Claret said wryly, stopping in front of them and lowering her head to look Sard in the eye, "it would behoove you all to listen to Spark's stories a little _more_. He can explain the Great Pyrrhian War to you. Then you'll understand why this meeting and befriending the other tribes is so crucial."

Sard had the grace to look ashamed, but the expressions on the other dragonets' faces ranged from dismayed (Ridge) through indignant disbelief (Gale) to open hostility (Buzzard). Claret's yellow gaze swept over them with a hint of satisfaction. While she never reprimanded them for the way they talked to each other or about Spark behind the old dragon's back, Ozone had a distinct feeling that she was glad for an underhanded way to punish them for their rudeness.

"I'll tell him to prepare to lecture you this afternoon," she added, before slithering off to Spark's cave, leaving a tangible tension in the air behind her.

"Look what you've done!" Gale burst out as soon as their commander was out of earshot, whirling around to glare daggers at Sard.

"Me?" yelped the smaller dragonet, throwing her wings up in the air in disbelief. "It was _your_ dumb question that started it!"

"No!" Gale argued. "It was _your_ snarky comment!"

"If you didn't have to challenge her—"

"If _you_ didn't have to open your big fat mouth—"

"It's both of your faults," spat Buzzard, stepping between them. His tail thrashed furiously from side to side. "Now we have to listen to this crazy old cougar ramble on about a war that happened years before we were even hatched. If I have to hear another insult from either of you, I'm going to strangle you both with your own tails!"

The threat was so startling that Ozone took an involuntary step backward.

There was a long moment of silence before Gale hissed at Sard and then stomped away. The orange dragonet glared after her for a long moment, smoke trailing from her nostrils, before storming off in the opposite direction.

"Well, that conversation went well," Ridge commented wryly.

Buzzard let out a scoffing sound in agreement. He stood there for a moment, tail twitching irritably, before ducking out of the cave through a third exit.

Ozone rubbed his temples, sighing inwardly. It seemed to him that his fellow soldiers in training fought more and more every day. Gale and had never gotten along well with Sard, and seemed to have extra spite for Ozone as the orange dragonet's best friend among the soldiers, but she had been particularly nasty to all of them recently. Clearly, Buzzard wasn't willing to take it any longer.

The dragonets could be organized into a somewhat efficient force if they managed to assemble without bickering, but Ozone suspected that it wouldn't be long before one part of their conflict or another rendered them fully incapable of working together. He just hoped Claret wouldn't hold that against him in addition to his flying off in the middle of training. He didn't need anything else to worry about.

A few hours later, the dragonets gathered in the cave they used, however rarely, as a lecture hall. About half of the cave was taken up by three ledges of increasing height where the dragonets could sit, two per ledge, so that they could all see the speaker. The other half was evenly level, and Spark tended to use all the room there to the fullest in strutting around proudly as he spoke.

Ozone was fairly sure Spark thought it made him look like an intellectual to walk instead of staying still, but he'd heard Buzzard remark on numerous occasions that the soldier was so old that if he stood still for too long, his joints would get stiff and he would never be able to move again. Either way, Ozone was grateful for the motion, which prevented him from falling asleep as easily.

When he got there, his heart sank as he realized that he was the last dragonet to arrive. Buzzard had stretched out across the highest ledge, clearly indicating that he did not want anyone to sit by him, and Ridge had joined Sard in the second row. When Ozone met his gaze, Ridge shrugged apologetically and waved his talons at Gale by way of explanation. She was sitting in front of them with a fierce scowl, determinedly not looking back at the dragonets behind her.

That was the only explanation Ozone needed. Loyalty between SkyWing soldiers-in-training only went so far.

He hesitated in the cave's entrance. He would rather skip the lecture, despite the anger it would trigger in both Claret and Spark, than sit next to Gale. His wings itched to fly far, far away from here.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be expelled from the army.

He forced his legs to move and bring him to the ledges, where he sat tentatively next to Gale, ready to leap up at a moment's notice. The pinkish-red dragonet gave him an irritable sidelong glance, but didn't voice any objections. Slowly, the fearful tension humming through his muscles faded, and he relaxed.

A moment later, Spark entered the cave, his chest puffed out slightly as he walked to the center in his half-limping gait. "Claret tells me the lot of you are in need of some information about the SandWing tribe, so as a veteran of the Great Pyrrhian War, I've naturally stepped forward to speak to you about it."

Ozone knew that wasn't true; Claret had requested that the old soldier speak to them. He wondered with a kind of detached curiosity whether she had asked Spark in a way that made him think it was his idea or if Spark had practiced that intro in an effort to impress the dragonets. If it was the latter, he knew it wouldn't work. In fact, they would probably ridicule him for it as soon as they were dismissed.

"The Great Pyrrhian War," Spark began, tucking back his wings self-importantly, "was a conflict that began twenty-seven years ago and ended fourteen years ago. While shorter than the greatest war before it, it resulted in much more bloodshed—can anyone tell me what the worst war before it was?"

No one responded for a moment, perhaps already too involved in daydreaming to process the question. With a theatric sigh, Buzzard raised his tail and, without waiting for Spark to call on him, answered in monotone, "The War of SandWing Succession."

"The War of SandWing Succession," Spark repeated emphatically, in a way that made Ozone fairly certain that he was too deaf to have heard Buzzard's answer and was responding in a way that would make sense regardless of what the orange dragonet had actually said. Spark was a bit craftier than the others gave him credit for.

"The War of SandWing Succession occurred in its entirety over one-hundred and fifty years ago," the old SkyWing droned on. "Generally regarded as the worst conflict Pyrrhia had ever seen, it turned the tribes against fighting one another and directed them to a mindset in which peace was the most favorable outcome. For a century, it worked. There were still a few skirmishes, but true war was avoided whenever possible.

"However, by the time the Great Pyrrhian War began, the memory of the horrors of war had faded, and an ambitious young SandWing called Famine rose to power within his tribe. He believed SandWings had the power—and the right—to take over the rest of the continent. In a world where the tribes were weak, favoring peace over power, he could easily intimidate 'em into giving him what he wanted."

Ozone tilted his head to one side, intrigued. Ha had heard this story before, but never told this way, in which the conflict was presented from Famine's point of view. Spark was actually a pretty good storyteller, even if he was convinced that all dragons besides SkyWings were untrustworthy and deceitful. His monotone voice needed a little work, but his normally paltry vocabulary and rambling grammar expanded significantly into fairly respectable speech when he was recited history.

To Sard, that would be comical, but Ozone just found it interesting.

"He marched his troops into the Ice Kingdom, something which had never been done before—something never thought possible. You see, Famine figured out that if he organized a massive number of troops, the warmth they gave off from their scales would help them survive the cold. The desert, though known for its sweltering days, gets very cold at night. Not quite as cold as the Ice Kingdom, but close enough that the tribe was prepared to withstand the harshness when they invaded. They charged the Great Ice Cliff which protected the IceWings and broke it down.

"The SandWings lost many dragons that day to the magic of the Great Ice Cliff, before they had even fought a single IceWing. But Famine was ruthless, even with his own tribe-mates, and he didn't let that stop them. And his tribe admired him for it, even though it was their own dragons that were dying at his command.

"The IceWings were cornered in their own kingdom—which had once been their own invincible sanctuary—and soon conquered. Famine made his way to the queen's palace and offered an ultimatum—join him or die.

"With the IceWings on his side, he turned on the SkyWing tribe next, without provocation, without warning," Spark went on, his eyes darkening. "With the IceWings attacking the Sky Kingdom from the north and the SandWings from the south, we were completely surrounded and soon overwhelmed. Queen Ibex was forced to sign a peace treaty with the SandWings, which gave Famine full command of our army.

"Do you all understand what that means?" the old dragon asked them. "Within a week, Famine had three tribes under his rule. Three tribes had been united into the most immense fighting force history had ever seen before the rest of Pyrrhia knew that anything out of the ordinary had happened at all.

"See, it was essential to Famine's plan that he travel quickly. He didn't want any of the tribes to know what he was doing before it was too late to stop him. So as quickly as he could, he moved on to the MudWings. By then, they had heard he was coming, but there was nothing they could do to assemble an army quickly enough. The combined force of SandWings, IceWings, and SkyWings toppled them easily."

Spark paused to eye the dragonets, who had been impressed into silence. They had all heard the story several times over, but never before had it occurred to them just how quickly the opening stages of the Great Pyrrhian War had happened.

"You all know what happened from there. The SeaWings hurriedly allied with the Rainforest tribes and devised a plan to stop Famine's advance using the geographic resources of the Sea Kingdom to their advantage. Still, it took years to finally defeat him. Years of dishonorable warfare and constant suspicion.

"The War of SandWing Succession was less destructive because its three-sided nature required more cautious strategy—even when each princess attacked, she always withheld some of her resources in preparation for a strike from her other opponent. But in the Great Pyrrhian War, there were only two sides, and both fought with everything they had. Furthermore, all seven tribes were involved, whereas the War of SandWing Succession excluded both of what we now know as the Rainforest Tribes—RainWings and NightWings—which were at the time distinct from each other.

"After the war was over and Famine defeated, the six queens forced Rain Shadow, the SandWing queen who had allowed her soldier to conquer their tribes without lifting a claw against him, to sign away her throne. They negotiated with her successor and wrote an amendment into the legislation of every tribe formally outlawing conquest and limiting the size of each army.

"Their hope was that war would be avoided ever after. So far, it has worked. But war is strange in that it requires violence to remind us why it should be avoided at all cost. The horrors of the War of SandWing Succession were forgotten, and thus the Great Pyrrhian Conflict came to be. We must not forget again."

There was a moment of grudgingly respectful silence. Spark sat down and curled his tail around his claws in a way that indicated the story was finished.

"Wait," Gale spoke up. "What happened to Famine? Did we just skip that part?"

Spark cleared his throat and settled himself with an air of superiority. "That is a story for another class. If you want to hear it, young dragonet, you'll have to come to another of my lectures some time." The old dragon turned and walked out of the cave, leaving the dragonets staring after him with various degrees of disbelief.

The respect in the room turned to sourness.

"That's not fair," Gale protested loudly after him. "I want to know _now_!"

"It's shameless bribery, that's what it is," Buzzard growled scornfully. "You're not going to get the answer out of the old pigeon-head."

"Suppose not," she said, spitting a contemptuous bolt of fire at the floor, so close to Ozone's talons that he had to leap back to avoid being burned. "This was a complete waste of my time." Her amaranth-colored tail twitched in disgust. "Honestly, what was the point of that story? One SandWing tried to take over all the tribes _twenty-seven years ago_ , and okay, his tribe at the time was apparently psycho because they loved him—but they're automatically all evil, evil, evil even to this day? That's the stupidest thing I ever heard! _Generations_ have passed since then."

"Well, he had a point," Sard said, predictably, because she would never agree with Gale even if that meant denying that her scales were orange. "If they all loved Famine for his power, maybe that's a problem of tribal mindset."

Gale glared at her. "You can't just tell someone how to think!"

"Can too," Sard argued, "if their way is obviously way too radical and violent. It's common sense to anyone who has a brain."

"If dragons with brains think like you, brains are overrated," Gale snapped.

"That's the stupidest comeback I've ever heard!"

Ozone glanced at Buzzard, who was starting to get annoyed again. He gave Ridge a beseeching look, and the red-orange dragonet waved one wing between the fighting females. "Can we not? We just had this conversation five minutes before we walked in here, and it's starting to give me an unpleasant sense of déjà vu."

"Fine," Gale growled, backing off. "Just get her to leave me alone."

And for the second time that day, she turned and stomped away.


	7. Chapter 6

**AN: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I'm going to try my best to get back to posting chapters on a regular basis, but I seem to have hit a wall of writer's block, so I've been mildly dissatisfied with how the later ones have been turning out. Please give me some feedback specifically about what you like and/or don't like about this story, because I only have half of a chapter left pre-written and I'm at a bit of a loss on where to take it from here, and I'll definitely try to incorporate your interests if I can.**

 **I'm begging you, please review! I'm not even exaggerating when I say that any comment, however small, makes my day.**

 **Anyway, I'm starting to come across sounding desperate, so without further ado, I present you Chapter Six. Enjoy! :D**

* * *

Cornice looked out at the bright blue sky, wishing it would snow. While the Sky Kingdom wasn't exactly hot, and the winds that blew through the canyons were cool and refreshing, it wasn't the same glorious chill he knew from home. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed the Ice Kingdom already.

 _But I won't be that weak,_ he told himself firmly. _I made this decision and I'm not going back on it now. I'm not going to go back home—no, back to the Ice Kingdom. I'm going to make a new home for myself somewhere else._

He turned his thoughts to a more acceptable reason to wish for snow. His wing was still throbbing, and his overwhelming boredom was nearly as painful. A change in the currently blank blue of the patch of sky he could see from within the cave and the numbing cold would be equally welcome.

As if his boredom had acted as a beacon, Cornice heard the sound of wingbeats. He tensed, wondering who was coming, and glimpsed a familiar pattern of red and gold along the dragon's back as he glided down to the cave. Still, Cornice didn't relax until Ozone landed, his talons scattering pebbles in every direction, and Cornice could see his face. Ozone's markings looked fairly distinct to him, but the IceWing had never seen any other SkyWings to compare to.

Ozone wore a pouch around his neck, which rested against one shoulder, bulging slightly with contents—hopefully medical supplies.

"I brought you something," he offered, in a half-awkward, half-hopeful tone. It was only then that Cornice saw the vaguely bird-like object the SkyWing clutched in his front talons, which Ozone held out to him.

Cornice blinked at it a few times. "Is that food?"

"Yeah." Ozone glanced down at the piece of prey, like he had somehow forgotten what he was carrying. He had done the same thing when Cornice asked him whether he was a SkyWing, almost as if he had needed to check the color of his scales before confirming the tribe he had been born into and lived in his whole life. "It's a pigeon. They're pretty common in the mountains."

"Dragons can go without eating for a month," Cornice said, his eyes lingering on the offering. "You didn't need to bring me food."

Ozone shrugged. "Yeah, well, even if you _can_ do it, it can't be very comfortable to go that long without eating. Why wait that long if you don't have to?"

Cornice blinked slowly, the way he'd been taught to minimize any visible reaction of surprise. Ozone, the dragon absentminded enough that he needed to check what kind of prey he had caught, that he didn't recognize an insult when he heard one, had thought to bring him something to eat—out of concern, no less. Concern for a stranger.

"Thanks," he said, realizing that Ozone was waiting for a verbal response of some kind. "For bringing me the pigeon, I mean."

"You're welcome," the SkyWing said, setting it down at Cornice's talons as if he had just remembered that the IceWing was injured and couldn't reach for it. "I didn't have a chance to come yesterday; sorry I made you wait. How's your wing feel?"

Cornice grunted. "Not much different than two days ago, for better or worse."

He studied the dead bird, prodding it experimentally with one corrugated talon. It was mostly feathers, soft to the touch rather than slick and waterproof like a puffin or penguin's. He supposed that made sense—there was no ocean here for miles and miles around. The thought made him feel strangely vulnerable.

He shook off the thought with a faint growl. He was never going back to the Ice Kingdom. He needed to just get _over_ it.

As Cornice ate, trying not to think about the unfamiliar taste of the prey, Ozone opened the pouch he had slung around his neck and rummaged in it, eventually pulling out a few long strips of fabric and a bottle containing a foreign-looking substance. "Spark, the soldier in charge of running my base, is kind of paranoid," the SkyWing said conversationally, "so it turns out he keeps an unnecessarily large number of first aid kits in his cave. I doubt he'll notice this one's gone."

"Hmph," Cornice snorted. That sounded terribly inefficient to him. Were _all_ the SkyWings as scatterbrained as Ozone? If so, the idea of them being fearsome warriors seemed laughable at best, pathetic at worst.

Ozone opened the bottle, and tentatively poured some of the liquid onto one of the bandages. Cornice noticed that his talons trembled as he did so, just a little. Was he nervous? But no, his voice was perfectly steady as he explained, "this stuff is supposed to help keep the bandage plastered to your wing membrane and keep out infection."

"Have you ever used it before?" Cornice asked.

"No," Ozone admitted. "I've been a soldier-in-training for less than a year."

Cornice blinked in surprise. "But you look older than me."

"SkyWings attend regular school until we turn seven," Ozone explained, "when we're supposed to start soldier training. It's not mandatory, though, so most dragonets these days don't end up training in the military at all."

"Then why are you a soldier?" Cornice asked, before his brain could process how insulting the question would probably come out sounding. But again, the offense went right over Ozone's head, and he seemed to genuinely ponder his answer.

"Because my mother wants me to be one," he said at last, his orange gaze meeting Cornice's blue one. "And I don't want to disappoint her."

Cornice nodded slowly. He understood that feeling.

"Anyway, can you open your wing as best as you can? I don't want the bandages to get wrinkled, otherwise they won't keep out infection as well." Ozone paused before adding, "That's what I've heard, anyway."

"Sure." Cornice unfolded his wing as far as the injury would let him, trying not to wince as he reached the limit and a fiercer bolt of pain stabbed through the constant ache. "That's as far as it'll open, though."

"That'll be good enough, I think," Ozone replied, stretching out the bandage and carefully lowering the wet side toward Cornice's wing. The IceWing held himself as still as possible, though he couldn't help the way he tensed as the stinging substance settled into the wound, and he let out a sharp hiss.

"Don't worry," Ozone said, blinking at him reassuringly. "It's supposed to sting."

"That's stupid," Cornice growled, glaring accusingly at the newly-placed bandage, but he supposed the SkyWing would know better than he did. Even if said SkyWing was absentminded and never seemed totally confident in what he was talking about.

"Do you want me to fix the dislocation now?" Ozone asked, once Cornice turned to face him again. "Or wait until some of the sting dies down?"

The IceWing thought about it. "Might as well get it over with."

Ozone nodded, his jaw tensing slightly as if he were steeling himself for the task. The SkyWing had his thoughts and feelings written all over him, the way only yearlings or younger did in the Ice Kingdom. Cornice felt a strange sense of contempt. It was none his business and didn't matter, really, how a random SkyWing would compare to his tribe's standards, but it seemed thoroughly degrading to be completely at the mercy of a dragon who behaved this way.

Oblivious to his resentful thoughts, Ozone took Cornice's wing in his talons and studied the joint. Cornice watched the SkyWing's orange gaze scan thoughtfully over the injury and could almost see the other dragon puzzling it out. They stood like that for a while, Cornice watching Ozone examine his wing, before the red dragon spoke. "Okay. I think I know what needs to be done now."

The words were far from confident, but the tone would have to be close enough.

"All right then," Cornice said, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to picture what the SkyWing would do to his wing or think about how ridiculous he would feel for having trusted him if something went wrong. "Do it quickly."

Ozone pressed his weight against the wing, and pain stabbed through Cornice's body, making a light as brilliant as sunlight dazzling on ice blaze against his eyelids. In a mixture of pain and fury, he instinctively hissed a blast of cold air at Ozone, but through the haze of agony he felt something click into place, and clamped his jaws shut before he turned the other dragon into an iceberg.

As Ozone reached up to wipe ice crystals off his snout, Cornice opened and closed his wing experimentally. Apart from the tear, it felt much better.

Cornice looked up at the SkyWing. "I'm sorry about your face."

Ozone was shaking his head and blowing smoke out of his nose, trying to shake off or melt the offending frost. The ice clinging to his red-and-gold scales slowly melted away and trickled in small rivulets down his face. "It's okay," he said, his tone a cross between matter-of-fact and wry. "If it hurt me, I'm too numb to feel it."

Inexplicably, Cornice fought the urge to smile.

"If your secret intention was to torture me," he told the SkyWing with as much dignity as he could muster, "I guess that makes us even."

Ozone snorted a surprised-sounding laugh. "I don't have any secret intentions. And I'll keep this in mind if I ever consider developing any. But keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." He tilted his head to one side and poked his talon into his ear to scrape out a bit of snow.

"Thanks for helping me," Cornice said. "And for the food."

"I would say 'no problem', but I doubt my frozen body parts would agree," Ozone said ruefully, turning his head to empty the other ear, "so I guess the proper response would be 'you're welcome'. Don't mention it."

Cornice flexed his wings again, enjoying the lack of the throbbing ache.

"Oh—" Ozone added suddenly. "I wouldn't try flying again just yet. Your muscles will probably be sore from lack of use. At least rest here for a few more days so you can be sure you've fully recovered. And I can teach you some exercises to start using that wing again gradually so you don't try flying and crash into another mountain."

"Trust me, that was a one-time thing," Cornice snorted. "I'll take your advice if that's what it takes to keep it that way."

Ozone smiled a little at that, though he ducked his head as if trying to make his reaction as unnoticeable as possible. "I'd better go now."

"All right," Cornice said. "I'll see you tomorrow… or whenever."

"Whenever," the SkyWing agreed. He turned and edged out along the mouth of the cave, unfurling his wings. Then, in a single flap, he was gone.


	8. Chapter 7

**AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! They really get my motivation up, and I appreciate that a lot. And I'd like to thank even those silent readers who don't review. I don't mean to give you the impression that if you don't review, I don't care about you. Every reader who sticks with this story means the world to me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

Early the next morning, Claret and the SkyWing soldiers-in-training set off for the SandWing base, leaving Spark behind to guard their own. There hadn't been an attack on their base in all the years since the Great Pyrrhian War, according to Claret, but there was always protocol to follow. Still, as they left, Spark's muttering made it clear that he thought his job was much more important than it actually was.

None of the dragonets knew quite what to expect of their SandWing counterparts. Though they had been invited cordially by Queen Chaparral, it was hard for the desert tribe to get over the stigma of having started the two greatest wars in their history. As they flew, far enough behind Claret to exchange conversation without her hearing them, everyone turned to Ridge, who liked to read and tended to be the most knowledgeable about foreign topics, for his opinion.

"It's hard to say what they'll be like," the red-orange dragonet mused. "The Sand Kingdom is basically a hodgepodge of different oasis towns, which each have slightly different cultures. The one thing they all have in common is the struggle for survival against the lack of water, the poisonous animals, etc. They respect strength... and that's about it. But we can't afford to pick a fight, either. If we can show our strength _without_ being aggressive, we should be fine."

"Show our strength without being aggressive?" Gale snorted. "You know you're contradicting yourself, right? That's basically like saying 'be diplomatic without talking'. I don't know how you expect us to do that."

"That might be tricky for your single-minded brain to comprehend, Gale," Sard said loftily, gliding a considerable distance away from the pinkish-red dragonet, "but I think the rest of us can handle it."

Gale aimed a death glare in her direction, but couldn't reach her. Seeing this, and apparently unwilling to tolerate another bickering session, Buzzard leaned over and swatted the smaller dragon out of the air with his wing. With a yelp, Sard plummeted a considerable distance before she could regain her balance and fly normally.

Claret gave the dragonets a somewhat irritated glance over her shoulder, but didn't question the exchange. She was too used to it at this point.

Sard gave Buzzard a dirty look as she beat her wings rapidly to catch up with the others, but he just chuckled in satisfaction. Ozone gave her a sympathetic nudge with his wing as she shifted to fly so that he was between her and Buzzard.

"To answer Gale's question," Ridge went on, as if he hadn't been interrupted, "it's a bit of a tricky balance. But basically, go with your gut—don't push them, but don't let them push you either. Try to be aware of how they talk to you, gauge their reactions to what you say carefully, and then adjust your approach accordingly."

"Easy for you to say," Gale grumbled. "I use my gut for fighting my enemies, not playing nice with them. I don't have the social skills for this."

Ozone shot her a surprised look that she thankfully didn't seem to notice. He'd thought he was the only one who struggled to keep up with complicated etiquette. _His_ gut feeling wouldn't be to try to balance the conversation, either—it would be to stay as unnoticeable as possible and talk as little as he could get away with.

Ridge's forehead wrinkled, as if he were imagining various ways that statement could affect how the meeting would go. "Okay then, be stoically silent. That seems to work for Buzzard, so it should go over decently for you. Buzzard, you should be fine the way you always are... as long as you don't lose your temper and growl, breathe fire, or hit anyone. Sard, try to refrain from annoying anyone... if you can help it. And Ozone, just be inoffensive, like you always are. And any of you, if you get into a conversation you can't handle, I'll help you out of it. But hopefully, everything will go smoothly."

Gale still looked a little worried, but she nodded.

Buzzard looked obscurely pleased by Ridge's words for him despite the jibe about his temper, while Sard gave a somewhat offended huff.

Ozone was mostly relieved by Ridge's detailed instructions to everyone. With the red-orange dragonet orchestrating most of the conversation, it couldn't go too terribly. Out of all of them, he was the most skilled at being tactful yet assertive.

"We're getting close," Claret called back to them. "Get into formation!"

Ozone sighed, but obliged along with the rest of the dragonets. He hated flying in formation more than anything else. It made him antsy, and holding his wings and tail in the rigid pose formality required always left his muscles sore for the next few days.

Still, even he could see the importance of making a good impression.

The SandWings were waiting outside the base when they arrived. Most of them stood together formally, but a smaller group lingered a few steps away, whispering to each other in a way that clearly violated the fancy etiquette that the rest of them were following. One of the more relaxed dragons must have told a joke, because one of his companions suddenly burst into laughter, while the other gave a thin, amused smile.

Ozone felt his wings automatically angle in their direction as he and the rest of the SkyWings came in for a landing; they reminded him of his own motley troops, like real dragons, as opposed to the rest of the stoic soldiers, the leader of whom gave Claret a stiff nod as she approached.

"Hey," the SandWing who'd apparently told the joke greeted Ozone as he landed. His scales were mottled pale brown and gray, as if he'd flown through a dust storm. "My name's Jackal. This is Tumbleweed," he added, gesturing with one wing to the dragon who'd just recovered from laughing—she was a tawny color, with beady black eyes that still shone with lingering amusement. Jackal wrapped his other wing around the third dragon's pale gold shoulders. "And this is Kulta."

She shrugged off his wing with a faint growl, and Jackal laughed. "Anyways, it's nice to meet you, SkyWing. What's your name?"

"Ozone," he told them, with a glance toward Claret. She was now immersed in a conversation with the SandWing commander, and didn't seem to need him for the moment.

"So I see you've noticed that we're the most interesting dragons here," Jackal said conversationally, and it took Ozone a moment to realize that he was joking. "So that makes you the best SkyWing so far. Everyone else over there is being all stiff and formal and boring." He rolled his eyes, and Ozone smiled.

Tumbleweed squinted at him. "A bit weedy-looking, but he'll do."

Ozone looked around and realized that the SkyWings were all smaller than the SandWings, who appeared to be a few years older. Tumbleweed was the shortest—about Ridge's height—but she was stocky and more muscular, and Ozone doubted that any of the SkyWings would want to take her on in a fight. Thankfully, though her words were harsh, the toothy smile she gave him as he turned to face her again looked friendly enough.

"So how was the flight here?" Jackal asked. "Everything go smoothly?"

Ozone nodded, deciding not to mention that all of the dragonets had been rather intimidated by the idea of meeting the SandWings. Though Jackal seemed friendly, Ozone didn't want to make his tribe look weak. Claret would wring his neck if she ever found out he'd admitted they were anything but equal to another tribe.

"I hope we go inside soon," Jackal said, glancing at his commander and shifting impatiently on his talons. "There's food there."

"I hope you like scorpions," Tumbleweed told Ozone seriously. He tilted his head to one side, contemplating the idea—he'd never tried scorpion before—but she seemed disappointed by his lack of a reaction. "Just kidding! We also have some birds that we caught for the occasion just this morning."

"I might try a scorpion anyway," he said, because now that he had the idea in his head, it seemed pretty interesting. Besides, he felt a little bad that the SandWings had needed to hunt something different specifically for them.

"Hmph," Kulta said, looking down her snout at him; he couldn't tell if the glint in her eyes was contempt or interest. "So he does talk."

"I think he's just shy," Tumbleweed offered.

"And he's also right in front of us," Jackal pointed out, "so it's kind of rude to talk about him in the third person." He gave Ozone a _sorry-about-my-friends_ kind of look, and the SkyWing shrugged. Not many things were offensive to him, and being talked about instead of talked to wasn't one of them.

Jackal opened his mouth to say something else, but then looked over at the rest of the dragons, who had turned away and were heading into the base. "Oh look, everyone's going inside. We might as well follow them."

He turned and led the way along the cliff with a graceful ease. The base was a lot like the SkyWings', but Ozone was used to flying up to it, not walking along ledges, so he felt a bit awkward as he stumbled after Jackal.

As they waited for everyone else to go through the entrance cave, which clearly hadn't been built with two tribes' soldiers in mind, Ozone found himself next to Sard. "What do you think of them?" she asked, a bit warily.

"They were nice to me," he told her honestly.

"Hmm," she responded, looking unconvinced. "I don't think your definition of nice and mine are the same."

That was probably true. Ozone was put at ease by the even the slightest hint of friendliness, which he was constantly searching for throughout a conversation, while Sard was a bit oblivious to subtlety and wouldn't accept anyone's joviality unless it was given directly to her without any rude and/or questionable humor.

Ozone felt someone bump into his wing, and turned around to see that Gale and Buzzard had shuffled over to them. Gale was frowning unhappily, while Buzzard wore his usual expression of silent superiority.

"I don't like this," Gale growled softly. "They're all bigger than us. And there are _eight_ of them. This doesn't feel friendly. This feels like a fight waiting to happen."

"I don't know why you're worried," Buzzard responded loftily. "I could beat any of these dragons with one wing tied behind my back." His tone wasn't hushed at all, and he gave the surrounding sand dragons a challenging glance.

Thankfully, everyone seemed too involved with moving inside to notice Buzzard's insolence and take offense besides one SandWing, who gave him a withering glance and didn't even dignify his comment with a response.

Still, Ozone glanced around desperately for Ridge, wondering, _Where is he when we need him?_ Eventually, he spotted the red-orange dragonet all the way across the entrance cave, valiantly trying to make some friendly conversation with an unimpressed SandWing twice his height, who Ozone took a moment to recognize as Kulta. It didn't seem like his friend would be coming over any time soon.

" _Please_ don't pick a fight," Ozone implored Buzzard, because Ridge wasn't there to, but the larger SkyWing didn't even seem to notice. As in most conversations, when he hadn't been directly spoken to, Ozone was largely ignored.

Shifting uneasily on his talons, Ozone looked over toward Ridge again, but ended up catching Jackal's dark gaze instead. The SandWing smiled and beckoned him over with a flick of his dust-colored wing.

With one last worried look at his fellow soldiers-in-training, Ozone ducked under the multicolored jumble of wings and tails cluttering most of the entryway and made his way over to where Jackal was standing, against the wall and at the edge of the crowd.

"We're not used to having so many dragons here," Jackal told him apologetically. "But I'm sure the big dragons will figure it out soon."

Ozone shrugged. He didn't care much for packed spaces, but the crowdedness wasn't Jackal's fault. He was more absorbed in trying to decide whether or not he'd just heard a hint of mockery in the SandWing dragonet's tone than in coming up with a verbal response to his comment.

Jackal nudged him with one talon. "Hey, did your commander tell you what else is going to happen today? All mine covered was the welcome banquet. I honestly think he's going to wing it from there, which is kind of an alarming thought."

"Claret didn't tell us much either," Ozone offered.

"Hey look," Jackal said, glancing up the rest of the crowd as it began to shift, "everyone's finally figuring out how to get inside in an orderly way." Ozone felt a sudden warmth against his scales as the SandWing wrapped one wing casually around his shoulders and began to lead him toward the doorway. "It's only been, like, an hour."

Ozone couldn't help but smile at the joke.

They soon arrived at the SandWings' dining hall, which was considerably bigger than the SkyWings' but still obviously not made to accommodate both tribes.

Tumbleweed came bounding over to Ozone and Jackal as soon as she caught sight of them, holding something expertly in the coil of her tail. Kulta followed more slowly, her face still unreadable.

"Scorpion," Tumbleweed announced cheerfully, dropping the object from her tail into Ozone's talons. "You could have gotten your own, but let's face it, a weedy dragonet like you would never make it through a big crowd like that, and more importantly, I absolutely _need_ to see your expression when you try it."

Her tone was so excited that Ozone's brain didn't register the insult intertwined in her message until Jackal laughed and said, "Ouch. How unflattering. Don't worry, though, Tumbleweed's bark is worse than her bite."

Tumbleweed narrowed her eyes at Jackal. "Is that so?"

"Meaning she's going to try to make you pay for that in training tomorrow," Kulta said dryly to Jackal, rolling her eyes as if terribly bored watching their interaction. "But since you're twice her size, she probably won't succeed."

"That's slander!" Tumbleweed cried, flaring her wings dramatically. "I can defeat Jack any day... even with one fist tied behind my back!"

Kulta gave a thin smile. "What about a fist and a wing tied?"

"Done!" Tumbleweed retorted, bristling indignantly. "I can totally do it!"

"Thanks for that," Jackal said, winking at Kulta and smiling when she scowled in return. "This should definitely be amusing."

"The black eye I give you will be, too," Tumbleweed jibed, looking satisfied when Jackal raised his eyebrows in an impressed-looking way.

"Too bad Ozone here won't be around to see it," was all he said, shrugging.

"Oh yeah..." Tumbleweed looked disappointed for a moment before turning to Ozone excitedly. "You should come hang out with us some time!"

Ozone ducked his head. "I don't know if Claret will let me."

"Of course she will!" Jackal said, flashing a winning smile. "The whole point is to befriend each other's tribes, isn't it?"

"I guess," Ozone mused, starting to warm to the idea. He still didn't know exactly why Jackal and Tumbleweed seemed to be going out of their way to be friendly, but he did think the SandWings were funny and he wanted to see what it was like to hang out with them. "But what would we do?"

"We'll go to Possibility, of course," Jackal told him enthusiastically. "It was founded by dragons from multiple tribes over a hundred and fifty years ago, and that's why it's the best hub for inter-tribal socialization."

 _A hundred and fifty years ago,_ the SkyWing mused, absentmindedly drumming his claws against the stone floor as he thought. _So that means... it was founded around the time of the War of SandWing Succession._

"There are a bunch of great shops," Jackal went on. "The whole town's a blend of SandWing, SkyWing, and MudWing culture. And in more recent years, we've seen quite a lot of SeaWing merchants, too."

"SeaWings?" Ozone echoed. _Don't they live all the way across the continent?_

"I know, kind of surprising," his new friend agreed. "Apparently, there was a lot of immigration to the west coast over the years. I didn't know this before, but according to my friend Barracuda, some SeaWings actually prefer the colder waters near the Ice Kingdrom over the tropics, so they live here instead of the east with the rest of their tribe."

"Really?" Ozone asked, mystified.

"I think so," Jackal said with a grin. "She's kind of a pirate, though, so you decide whether you believe her. Her explanation made more sense than any of the other ones I tried to come up with, though."

"Explanations you tried to come up with?" Ozone asked curiously.

Jackal shrugged. "My personal favorite was that the dragons on the west coast were just so attractive that they didn't want to miss out. Tumbleweed agreed with me on that one, but Kulta just got annoyed by it and told me not to be ridiculous. I think she was feeling jealous... you know, because I naturally used myself as an example of west-coast dragons SeaWings were attracted to."

Kulta snorted dismissively, sending a puff of smoke towards the ceiling, while Tumbleweed started cracking up. Ozone just blinked, unable to come up with a verbal response to that, and Jackal chuckled at his startled expression. "Joking. Kind of. Anyways, it'll be fun. You should definitely think about it."

"All right," Ozone agreed. "I'll ask Claret if I can go with you."

"Eat first," Tumbleweed reminded him, nudging the scorpion in his talons and looking at Ozone with a level of wicked anticipation that was kind of alarming.

He studied the prey warily. "How do I eat this?"

Jackal blocked his talons before he could do anything. "For starters, _don't_ eat the barb, no matter what Tumbleweed tries to tell you."

"Camel turd," the tawny dragon protested. "I would never!"

"She would," Kulta informed Ozone dryly. "She loves drama, even if that means watching her friends get poisoned."

"I do not! But for the record, it's not like it would kill him or anything."

"See?" the pale gold SandWing said, looking amused in a superior kind of way.

"Just peel off the shell," Jackal instructed, stabbing it with his talons and deftly removing the exoskeleton. "And you eat the inside part. There's not much in there—I think SkyWings generally eat more than SandWings, so it couldn't be a full meal for you, but it still makes for a tasty snack."

Ozone tentatively nibbled at it. He'd never eaten anything like it before, but it wasn't bad. "I like it," he decided, quickly polishing of the rest.

"Great!" Tumbleweed cheered. "You'll make an excellent addition to our squad."

The chattering in the crowd decreased to a murmur and then petered out as Claret and the SandWing commander raised their wings for silence.

"Make sure you have plenty to eat," the SandWing said. "After lunch, we have a series of friendly competitions to hold between our soldiers-in-training. Claret tells me that you SkyWings have received extensive preparation, and be assured that our own dragonets have learned much as well. I'm looking forward to seeing what the rest of the day will bring."

"Sounds like fun," Tumbleweed said brightly.

Taking into consideration what Kulta had said about Tumbleweed liking drama, it probably would be for her. But as Ozone glanced over to where his fellow SkyWings were sitting in a group together, still looking wary, all he could think of was how Gale and Buzzard had been so hostile earlier. And he didn't think that the competitions would go as well as the two commanders hoped.

 **Since this chapter was getting a little long, I decided to cut it off here so that I could post this update on time. But the next chapter will continue where this one left off, not jump back to Cornice's POV.**

 **I hope you all liked the SandWings! They were a lot of fun to write.**

 **Until next time! :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**AN: Sorry about the wait!**

 **If you see any typos or other mistakes with this chapter, please let me know! I always try to keep them as flawless and accurate as possible, but I had to write this one in tiny snippets at a time, so no matter how much proof-reading I do, it always feels a bit jumbled up and disjointed. Thanks in advance!**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoy reading it more than I did writing it!**

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Tumbleweed shoved her way unapologetically through the crowd for the rest of the group, and they secured a table in one of the corners of the room. Now that he'd enjoyed the scorpion, Tumbleweed chattered to Ozone about other kinds of desert food, insisting that he'd love the cactus juice. As the other two SandWings followed, they speculated about the nature of the competitions their commander had mentioned, meaning Jackal spouted unusual ideas and Kulta scoffed dismissively at them.

Once they settled down with their food, Ozone picking experimentally at a piece of ostrich meat, Jackal smiled at him across the table. "So, Ozone, what's it like training as a SkyWing soldier? Want to enlighten us?"

The red-and-gold dragonet shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable at being put on the spot like this. How could he describe the past few months in only a few words? "It's just normal, I guess. Probably the same as training to be a SandWing soldier."

"So... friendships, rivalries, getting up unnaturally early, etc.?"

Ozone let out a surprised laugh. "Yeah, pretty much."

"So which dragon's your friend?" Tumbleweed asked, leaning forward. "Who's your enemy? I want all the juicy details."

"My best friend is Sard," Ozone said. "The orange dragon with the red wings. I don't really have any enemies." Sure, Gale didn't like him, and Buzzard could be a bully at times, but he didn't hate them, and he didn't want to make a bad impression for them on the SandWings. The desert dragons could decide for themselves whether or not they liked the rest of the SkyWing soldiers-in-training.

"Really?" Tumbleweed sounded surprised, maybe a little doubtful. "There isn't even _one_ dragon who picks on an easy target like you?"

Ozone wrinkled his snout, trying to decide whether he should reevaluate why he liked this particular dragon. But despite her harsh words, she didn't seem unfriendly, and it was hard for him to shake off a good first impression.

The SandWing dragonets were still looking at him expectantly. Even Kulta had a thinly-veiled look of interest in her glittering black eyes.

"Well," Ozone admitted reluctantly. "There is one dragon who doesn't like me, but that's mostly because she knew Sard first and doesn't like _her_. Somehow she ended up hating me more than she hates Sard, though." Sure, Gale and Sard had some pretty viscous arguments, but Gale oozed resentment whenever she looked at Ozone. He still wasn't sure why or how her disgust towards him had surpassed her rivalry with Sard, but it definitely had somewhere along their training.

"Ooh," Tumbleweed said, pricking her ears. "Who's that?"

Ozone rubbed his snout, feeling highly uncomfortable. "Gale," he told her at last, feeling like a gossip. "The one with the pinkish-red scales."

The SandWings all not-so-subtly studied her. Ozone didn't turn around to look with them, but once the others returned their attention to the table, he felt Gale's yellow eyes land accusingly on his back. She knew they were talking about her. And she would probably hate Ozone even more now for it.

"Anyway," he said, trying to deflect their attention so they couldn't get any more condemning information out of him, "what about you guys?"

"Tumbleweed's nemesis is Mesa," Jackal replied, indicating a pale yellow dragon sitting by the commanders. He was deep in conversation with both the leader of the SandWing troops and Claret, who looked genuinely interested in what the dragonet was telling her. Ozone couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about.

"He thinks he's better than everyone else," Tumbleweed said, apparently having no qualms about discrediting one of her own fellow soldiers-in-training. "Acts like he'll be a commander one day—no, more like he already is one. Look at him there, talking to the big dragons like he's their equal!" Her tail twitched in disgust.

"Kulta," Jackal went on, "despises Sear. While he, unlike Mesa, is a decent, good-hearted, bookish soul, he has the misfortune of being head over heels for our snake-like friend here. He continues trying to win her heart even though she crushes all his hopes and dreams on a daily basis, with a dedication which annoys her to no end."

He nodded towards the dragonet he was talking about, and Ozone glanced over his shoulder to see a beige dragon chatting with Ridge. Ridge seemed to have relaxed a lot since this morning, judging from the way his wings hung loosely at his sides, and Ozone hoped that he would become close with Sear. Trapped between Sard and Gale's constant arguing with only haughty Buzzard and timid Ozone as companions, the red-orange SkyWing could use a friend or two who shared his academic nature.

"Well, it's not my fault he couldn't take a hint," Kulta said loftily, bringing Ozone back from his hopeful daydream.

"What about you?" he asked Jackal, noticing that the dust-colored dragonet hadn't mentioned any rivals of his own. Ozone wouldn't normally ask, but he felt guilty for talking badly about Gale and wanted the others to tell him about their own enemies to validate his willingness to complain.

"Me?" Jackal smiled enigmatically. "I don't have enemies. Everyone loves me."

Kulta shoved him, and Tumbleweed snickered. "Except Kulta."

"I'm in the same unfortunate circumstances as Sear, I'm afraid," Jackal said, and then laughed, making it impossible for Ozone to tell how serious he was being.

They chatted for a while longer, thankfully about safer topics, before Claret and the SandWing commander announced that it was time to move along to the competitive activities. Tumbleweed fluttered her wings excitedly, while Jackal pricked his ears, and Kulta settled her shoulders in a confident posture.

"The first competition will be a relay race," Claret announced, amid interested murmuring from the dragonets. "There will be three teams of three and two teams of two, with one dragonet from each of those smaller teams flying a second time to make the race fairer. In order to be fair and promote intertribal coordination, there must be at least one SkyWing and one SandWing in every group. Any questions?"

Tumbleweed grabbed Ozone by the shoulder, almost knocking him over. "I claim Ozone for my team! Since you're a SkyWing, you can be the one to fly twice, and it'll be like having two SkyWings on our team. And we'll do better than everyone else because there're only five SkyWings and five teams, so most of the others are stuck with two SandWings. The only ones who can possibly stop us are the other pair!"

"Lovely," Kulta said witheringly. "Now I'm stuck with Jack."

Ozone would have been hurt if she had talked about him that way, but Jackal only laughed at the disgusted tone in her voice. "I know you secretly love being my partner. C'mon, let's go see if Ozone's friend Sard wants to team up with us."

They waded over to her through the crowd, but Tumbleweed's rival Mesa and a SandWing Ozone didn't recognize reached her before they did, and Sard warily accepted their offer to team up. Jackal and Kulta ended up with Buzzard instead, who seemed to have retained his hostility towards the desert dragons.

"You'd better not hold me back," the pale orange SkyWing growled, but neither of the SandWings rose to the bait; Jackal only smiled and politely promised not to, while Kulta yawned at the threat, unimpressed. Ozone hid a laugh as he saw Buzzard's facial expression, caught somewhere between baffled surprise and indignant frustration.

 _He doesn't know how to react to them,_ he realized. _After what Ridge told us this morning about their respect for strength, none of us expected the SandWings to be like this. Maybe now Buzzard will realize he can't intimidate his way out of everything._

Tumbleweed surveyed their opponents, making a face at Sard's choice of a group, passing over the SandWings teamed up with Gale without interest, and homing in on their rival pair—Sear and Ridge—with a gleam of satisfaction in her dark eyes. "Sear's smart and great at fighting—built like a stone wall—but he's got a pretty short wingspan, so he's a slow flier. We've got this, no problem!"

"Are you sure?" asked Ozone, rubbing his snout nervously. He wasn't totally comfortable with the idea that their success depended mostly on him. Furthermore, he wasn't sure how big a typical SandWing's wingspan was, but Tumbleweed's looked a lot shorter than Ridge's, even though the two were about the same height.

"Of course!" she said confidently, with a flick of her tail. "You're bigger than the weedy little SkyWing that Sear's paired up with."

"You called me weedy earlier, too," Ozone reminded her.

"Yes, well... he's even weedier than you," Tumbleweed scoffed. "There's no way we'll lose to those two. C'mon, be a little more enthusiastic!"

Ozone wasn't sure enthusiasm was synonymous with brash overconfidence, but he decided not to argue with her. "Want me to go first?" he offered instead, trying to plan a strategy. "I can fly first and last so that I have time to rest in between and you'll only have to do one stretch in the middle."

"All right," Tumbleweed agreed cheerfully. "We've totally got this!"

Once they exited the caves, in a much more orderly fashion than they'd entered in, the dragonets lined up on the cliff. Behind Ozone, Tumbleweed hummed to herself—a bit too triumphantly in his opinion, considering they hadn't even started yet—as Claret soared a fair distance away. She turned to face them and hovered as she explained the rules. Each dragonet would have to fly around her and back. The first team to have all participants back on the cliff would claim victory.

Ozone glanced warily at his competitors. Alongside him, Mesa shifted eagerly on his talons, a SandWing he didn't know glanced back nervously at his teammates, Gale stared resolutely ahead as she waited for the signal, and Ridge made eye contact with him. Apparently, he and Sear had the same strategy as Ozone and Tumbleweed.

"Go!" shouted the SandWing commander from behind them, and the dragonets immediately launched into flight. The initial chaos of flapping wings was disorienting, but Ozone soon regained his wits as he and the other SkyWings quickly pulled ahead of their SandWing counterparts.

Glancing at him, Gale scowled and spread her wings wider to catch a breeze and soar ahead. Beside her, Ridge propelled himself forward with powerful flaps.

Ozone caught up to them by the time they reached Claret, and managed to wheel around in midair with commendable swiftness. But Gale growled low in her throat as she passed him and swept her wing beneath his as she turned, disrupting the air current keeping him aloft and causing him to lose his balance.

 _Not again,_ Ozone thought frantically, flashing back to their warm-up race on the day the storm started. He had to flap his wings wildly to right himself, which cost him valuable time. _Being disrupted at the turn is always what makes me lose!_

On the cliff, he could see the SandWing commander narrow his dark eyes. He'd noticed Gale's sabotage. But he said nothing as she touched down on the cliff, glaring at him with defiance in her yellow gaze.

Ridge had been the first to reach the cliff, and Sear flapped swiftly past Ozone as he approached his destination, where Tumbleweed was bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet. She swept forward as soon as Ozone's claws touched the ground, a look of fierce determination on her face.

She must have noticed Gale unbalance him, because she immediately cut across the other dragons' paths to fly over to Gale's team's second flier and yank on his tail. Ozone glanced back to see the SandWing commander give a huff of annoyance, but it was Claret who berated Tumblweed as she reached the turning point. The SandWing dragonet blithely ignored the SkyWing commander's scolding and came flying back to Ozone with a self-satisfied smile on her face.

 _You shouldn't have done that,_ he opened his mouth to tell her, but she shooed him away with her tawny wings as soon as she landed. "Go, go, go!"

Ridge was already almost halfway to the turning point, but Ozone leapt obligingly into the air after him. Beating his wings as quickly as they would carry him, he managed to close most of the distance between them by the time he whipped around the spot where Claret was hovering. Though the howling of wind stole whatever sound the rest of the dragonets were making, he could see Tumbleweed shouting something at him at the top of her lungs, probably something along the lines of, _You'd better win!_

He reached the cliff an instant before Ridge and only because he didn't slow down enough to land properly, tumbling head over claws as he crashed to the ground. "We did it!" Tumbleweed exclaimed, jumping on him and pummeling him enthusiastically (and rather painfully) with her wings. "I told you we could!"

"I guess you were right," he panted, once he could breathe again. His talons were throbbing where he'd stubbed them against the edge of the cliff.

"Always am!" she crowed triumphantly.

"Nice job, Ozone," Ridge conceded graciously, inclining his head. Behind him, Sear nodded in agreement, looking impressed.

Ozone couldn't remember the last time he felt as proud as he did then, basking in Tumbleweed's sense of accomplishment and his fellow trainees' congratulations.

"Yes, nice work," Jackal called in agreement, walking over and pulling Ozone to his feet. "You're on my team for the next game!"

The next few competitions went by in a blur. Ozone was unable to recreate his success in any of them, but none of his SandWing partners seemed to mind much. The competitions were surprisingly enjoyable, at least until the time came for sparring and he was paired up against Kulta.

She looked down her snout at him and smiled ominously. "Hello there, SkyWing. "Don't worry, I'll try to make being knocked out as painless as possible."

Ozone gulped, feeling somewhat cowed. As friendly as Jackal and Tumbleweed had been to him, it seemed the third member of their group could be considerably more intimidating when she wanted to be.

He settled into a fighting stance, trying not to think about the threat behind her words as he waited for Claret's signal to begin. She and the SandWing commander were circling the pairs of dragonets scattered across stone platform, making sure everyone looked about evenly matched. Unfortunately for Ozone, Kulta had a lean build similar to his own, even though she was significantly taller than him.

"Begin!" Claret called sharply.

Immediately, Kulta pounced, more quickly than Ozone had expected her to move, knocking the wind out of him with the full weight of her body. As he fell limp beneath her, she struck out, biting his shoulder with powerful fangs before leaping back out of reach and prowling around him, searching for another opening to attack.

Ozone grimaced at the stinging pain, but managed to get to his feet and dodge her next strike. It was disorienting how she circled him so unhurriedly and yet attacked so quickly. He had to remain fully alert at every moment just to keep up, and almost never found an opening to hit back at her. She was toying with him, Ozone quickly realized, playing completely offensive while trapping him on the defensive.

Just as she had him backed up against the wall, a sharp yelp of pain cut through the scuffle, diverting Kulta's attention. The rest of the pairs stopped their battles as well, looking over in concern as Claret pushed her way through the crowd to help the injured fighter, the SandWing commander close on her tail.

It was Gale, clutching her shoulder to hold back the flow of blood and casting an accusing glance at her opponent. The SandWing backed away from her, folding back his wings and holding up his claws to look harmless. Ozone realized with a jolt that it was Jackal who had dealt the injuring blow.

"It was an accident," the dust-colored dragonet assured Claret, his eyes gleaming apologetically. "When she tackled me, I lost my footing—accidentally clawed her harder than I meant to."

"Still, you should be more careful," the SandWing commander scolded him, as Claret inspected the wound. The impatient edge to his tone made Ozone guess that this wasn't the first time he'd needed to berate Jackal for something. "This was meant to be a _friendly_ competition only. I told you earlier that I expected you treat our guests as you would your own tribe-mates, didn't I?"

"Sorry, Commander Hogback," Jackal said, hastily dipping his head to pacify the older SandWing. "It won't happen again."

"It better not," Hogback snorted. "Still, just to be safe, I think we should call off the sparring section of the day's activities early. What do you think, Claret?"

The burgundy dragon looked up from Gale's injury and nodded. "I agree."

Jackal caught Ozone's gaze behind their backs and winked one dark eye.

But the SandWing dragonet wasn't paying attention to where anyone besides the commanders was looking, and didn't notice the way Gale's gaze traveled from him to Ozone and back again, narrowing slightly. A faint trail of smoke rose from her nostrils.

 _Does she think Jackal did that to her on purpose?_ Ozone worried. To him, it was impossible to tell. _The way he explained what happened made it look like an accident… but I did just tell him and the other SandWings that Gale and I are enemies. And why else would he wink at me just now?_

Either way, he knew that Gale's suspicions meant he was in trouble. As the rest of the day passed, Ozone couldn't put the incident out of his mind.

Jackal didn't bring it up again, not even when he joined Ozone, Tumbleweed, and Kulta for dinner as the two tribes prepared for the SkyWings' departure later that day. Still, Ozone couldn't help but wonder if his friend had intentionally injured Gale to get back at her for bullying him.

 _I didn't mean for him to retaliate,_ he thought, rubbing his snout nervously. _And I can't help but feel like his interference will only make more trouble._

"Hey," Jackal said, nudging him across the table with one wing. "I'll write to you. There's this one dragon in Possibility who runs a delivery service, so we can use that to keep in touch. It's only what—a day's travel?—between our bases, and Possibility isn't too far from here. The messenger comes by all the time looking to see if we have letters to send. She'll be glad that I finally have one for her."

Ozone was caught somewhere between feeling flustered and excited that his new friend wanted to stay in touch. "Sure, I'll write back."

It wasn't much longer before Claret called all the SkyWing dragonets to her, and Ozone bid his new friends a hasty goodbye before hurrying over to join his tribe. Jackal and Tumbleweed waved after him, while Kulta gave a short nod of farewell.

"Don't forget to ask Claret when we can meet up!" Jackal called.

"I won't," Ozone promised, doing his best to return the other dragonet's smile.

"So what did you think of the SandWings?" Ridge asked the other trainees, once the desert base was out of sight and the SkyWings shifted out of formation.

"They were all right," Sard answered guardedly, glancing back the way they had come. "But I don't think we should treat them like our best friends or anything." Her yellow gaze flitted to Ozone so briefly that he couldn't be sure whether her comment was a jibe at him or just a general warning.

But what reason did she have to distrust the SandWings? If anything, Jackal's accidentally injuring Gale should have won him a spot on Sard's good side.

Ozone glanced at the pinkish-red dragonet, hoping her anger had subsided, but she was gazing straight ahead with her jaws clenched slightly. She didn't cast him even a single evil glare—those seemed reserved for Sard's heckling—but Ozone wasn't sure that was as good a sign as it seemed. Gale wasn't the type to let things go.

By the time they returned to their base, the sun had set and the sky had gradually darkened to black. Claret dismissed the soldiers-in-training with the reminder that they were expected to be up before sunrise according to their usual schedule, despite their late arrival home.

Buzzard gave the others a grunt that seemed to pass for "goodnight" before disappearing into the cave the male dragonets shared; Ridge acknowledged them with a verbal farewell instead before vanishing after him. Ozone would have followed as well, but Gale's shoulder was blocking his way through the entrance cave and he didn't want to further aggravate her by rushing her to move.

Sard's "goodnight" was obscured by a yawn as she slithered off towards the other dormitory. Gale made no move to follow her.

Ozone gave Gale a worried look, wondering if he should speak up, and caught a malevolent flash of yellow as she glanced at him. She was intentionally holding him back, waiting for everyone else to be out of earshot.

Ozone ducked his head nervously, preparing for the worst.

As soon as Sard's footfalls faded, Gale whirled around, nostrils flaring furiously. Ozone only saw a blur of amaranth scales before her claws slashed across his snout. He fell back with a yelp of surprised pain.

Gale advanced on him, hissing up flames. The light from her jaws cast menacing shadows on the walls all around, phantom teeth surrounding the two dragonets. "What did you tell your SandWing friends about me? Did you tell that Jackal dragon to attack me? His claw slipped—yeah, right! As if I'd believe that load of pigeon guts for an instant! Don't think I didn't see the lot of you whispering dirty secrets about me!"

Ozone remained silent through her tirade, bracing himself. Whatever he told her wouldn't help—he could tell that from one look at her face, contorted with rage.

"What did you tell them?" she demanded again, when he didn't respond.

Again, he said nothing, backing further away and waiting for her anger to pass and reason to replace it. _She can't actually hurt me, or she'll have Claret to answer to._ He felt his tail brush against the wall. _But I hope she realizes that soon… right now, I'm literally getting backed into a corner._

Gale let out one more menacing hiss before backing off, her sides heaving angrily. She spat her fire onto the ground, where it left a scorch mark against the rock. "You and your SandWing humiliated me! You made me look weak in front of our enemies, Ozone! I hope you're satisfied with that dirty trick. Because when I get back at you for this, it'll be extremely satisfying for _me_."

With a gleam of contempt in her malicious yellow eyes, she turned and vanished down the tunnel, leaving Ozone standing in the entrance cave on trembling legs.


	10. Chapter 9

**AN:** **A heartfelt thank you to everyone who's been following the story up to this point!** **It might be a while before I can get back to my weekly updating schedule, especially with school coming up in only a few weeks, but I'll try my best to get back on track! As some of you probably know, I've updated Chapter 8 so that it now continues the actual story instead of serving only as an announcement. However, if you didn't see that and haven't read it yet, I advise you do so before continuing with Chapter 9.**

 **Now, if you're all caught up, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

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Cornice rested his chin on the cave floor, half-seriously reconsidering his decision to follow Ozone's advice and rest. Sitting alone in a cave right on the border of the Sky and Sand Kingdoms made him feel like he was just asking to be discovered. Inter-tribal etiquette generally obligated the tribe to ask questions before immediately taking the trespasser as a prisoner, but Cornice didn't want to take that chance. He was far too close to the SkyWings' base to claim innocence—even though it was the truth.

His throat felt unpleasantly dry, and his gaze traveled unenthusiastically to the moist spots on the stone near the mouth of the cave. He'd lapped at the puddles which the rain had left there, but they tasted unpleasantly of minerals. Besides, he doubted he would ever get used to drinking liquid water instead of consuming snow to relieve his thirst. _But I'll have to try. I'm not going back just for some snow._

 _I have to do something productive,_ he decided once he had quenched his thirst as best he could, both to take his mind off missing the Ice Kingdom and because as long as he could remember, he had always been doing something—training, studying, attending elite functions at the queen's palace, training, training, training. Cornice couldn't stand remaining still, doing nothing, and practically feeling his muscles atrophy.

Wincing, he hauled himself to his talons. He hadn't moved more than an inch for several days and his body hadn't expected him to start now. He ached all over.

 _That's normal,_ he told himself, clenching his jaws to keep from hissing. _Nothing good ever comes without a little pain._ It was a lesson he'd learned over the years as he struggled to climb the ranks, especially after his family had been shamed and his mother had pushed him relentlessly to reclaim their rightful place.

After the initial movement relieved the stiffness in muscles, motion came a little less painfully. Cornice grunted in satisfaction.

His mind still on his mother, he wondered what she was doing now. She'd always insisted on staying with Stigma, despite his disgraceful behavior, until Cornice was full grown, to help her son as much as she could. _But that's the end of it,_ she'd said coldly to the dragon she had once been so proud to marry. _After our son reaches the adult ranks, I have no reason to stay with you and carry the burden of_ your _crime._

Cornice hoped she had decided to separate from his father once she had realized their son wasn't coming back, so that she could return to her rightful place in the Second Circle and the palace. But part of him rebelled at the idea. He couldn't stand thinking about how his father would probably be happier without Glissade.

 _I don't care what happens to him and his pack of so-called offspring,_ he tried to convince himself, the icicle spikes along his back rising in agitation. _They're not worthy of being called my family. They're not even worthy of being called IceWings._

 _Technically, I'm not either,_ a small voice whispered at the back of his mind, and he shook his head violently to clear it. It was true, though. Any dragon who left his tribe and his family was the worst kind of traitor. _Whatever. At least that means I don't have to think about them anymore. Ever again, if I don't want to._

For years, that had been all he'd really wanted. _I only wish I hadn't needed to let my mother down to get that freedom._

Trying to hold on to the lightness that came from being free from his supposed family, Cornice walked the length of the cave with his head held high. His injured wing still gave painful protest when he tried to move it, but his legs eventually shed their stiffness and soreness altogether.

 _That's right, muscle cramps,_ he thought triumphantly, striding in a circle around the edges of the cave. _It's time you learned that no one messes with an IceWing!_ Then he snorted, shaking his head in mingled amusement and exasperation. _Now I'm really losing it. Spending so much time alone must be getting to my head._ He had to admit that even a somewhat daft SkyWing was better than no company at all.

He hadn't seen Ozone in several days, which he wouldn't have minded too much apart from the fact that the other dragonet was supposed to be teaching him stretches that, as he failed to open his wing more than a few inches, he decided that he probably did need. He glanced hopefully at the mouth of the cave and then sighed. _Can't he just magically appear when I realize that I really do need his help? It's definitely a more monumental realization than the universe is currently making it out to be... and more painful to my ego than I'd like to admit._

As he reached the depths of the cave and turned to resume pacing to the front, Cornice noticed that the back wall was broken up by a crevice that he hadn't noticed before. The angle of the opening had made it look like an uninteresting crack, while in reality it was probably big enough for a dragon to fit inside.

He peered curiously into it, and saw nothing but darkness. A dragon from tribe might be able to pick out the subtle details of the opening, but to his eyes, everything looked pitch-black. IceWings were used to dealing with the brilliance of direct sunlight on ice—their eyes were made for resisting brightness, not unraveling darkness. Cornice wished he still had Ozone's fire to light his way, but it had long since petered out, and with all the sunlight streaming into his cave, he hadn't thought he would need it again.

 _But I'm an IceWing,_ he told himself firmly, _not some inferior red-bleeder. I don't fear anything, especially not the dark._

Still, he couldn't help hesitating. _But am I really still an IceWing? Do the shape of my claws and the color of my scales make me forever part of the tribe, or does my disloyalty and lack of respect for my family reshape me into something else?_

His more reasonable side also rushed in to fuel his hesitation. _Besides, what if there are sharp rocks sticking out of the wall and they only make my injury worse? Or there's a sudden steep drop and I can't catch myself because my wing is hurt?_

 _Then figure out how you can avoid falling into those traps,_ he told himself. He'd done something like this before, as a test—he, along with his 'siblings', had been sent into an underground maze and challenged to find their way to the other side. Cornice had immediately struck out on his own, not wanting to be anywhere near the others, and even though it had taken him much, much longer to find his way out, he had eventually made it through with only a few scrapes and bruises.

 _Call out and listen for an echo if you think there might be something blocking your way,_ he reminded himself. _Feel the ground a few feet ahead of you so you don't fall. Walk slowly. And use your mane to measure the width of a hole you want to go through so your wings don't get stuck._ He'd learned all these lessons the hard way.

 _Now go,_ he commanded, in a tone so firm that he could almost imagine it was his mother's voice as she sent them in. He hadn't shuddered then, and he didn't now.

Slowly, he shuffled through the cave, stumbling here and there on sharp rocks. The unevenness of the ground was a striking difference from the frost-packed dirt of the underground tunnels in the Ice Kingdom, but he could adapt. If he wanted to survive away from his tribe, he had to be able to adapt to anything.

 _So this is another test,_ he told himself. _Don't fail it._

"Hello?" he called experimentally, and counted the number of seconds before the words came reverberating faintly back to him. It seemed it was safe to continue on for a while longer, and so he did. But he didn't forget to tentatively pat the ground ahead of him before actually stepping forward.

After what seemed like hours, something changed in the soft blackness ahead of him. Cornice paused and squinted, wondering if he'd imagined the subtle shift.

No, there really was a speck of light in the distance—so tiny that his eyes couldn't really focus on it, but definitely there nevertheless. With newfound confidence, Cornice continued to pick his way along the rocky tunnel towards the light.

When he made it, what he found was not what he'd been expecting to see.

It was a cavern, the walls striped with more colors than he'd ever seen before. Dark red, green, blue, yellow—all flecked with something which sparkled as it caught the light. Leaning closer, he was stunned to find that it looked like little bits of metal and crystal within the stone. _I thought all rock was gray, not colorful and shining like it is here._ The various banded hues almost hurt his eyes, which were more accustomed to the unbroken white and blue of the snow and sky.

His eyes traveled up the sides of the cave to the top, where a crevice much like the one he'd entered the tunnel through let in curtains of light. This was unusual, too—the light entered in distinct rays rather than radiating equally on everything around him. The odd manner of lighting made it hard to see the far walls of the cave, but Cornice thought he could make out rock all around. It seemed that the only exit was the one he'd just come in through.

Cornice's heart sank. The rocks in this cavern were certainly different, but it still wasn't really anything special. The area was still as cramped as the cave network where he'd been living with his so-called family since his father's scandal. Cornice had been hoping to find fresh air when he'd seen the light in the distance.

 _I guess I'll head back,_ he decided, turning away from the colorful cave. While his cave was boring, at least it wasn't as dark and moldy as this one.

He'd only made it about halfway back when he heard Ozone's voice calling his name. The sound was oddly loud in the confining tunnel, as if echoing off the walls, and Cornice instinctively angled his ears away from it.

"I'm back here," he called back, once he realized what he'd heard. "Hold on!"

Knowing now that there were virtually no obstacles in the dark tunnel, he hurried back to his cave without bothering to feel his way along the path. He emerged into the more open air a few moments later, gratefully breathing in its freshness.

"Where have you been?" Ozone asked, studying the dust clinging to Cornice's icicle-like mane with curious orange eyes.

"Exploring," the IceWing said, shaking it off and trying not to sneeze. "Since you kept me waiting for so long, I decided I had to do something. Couldn't you have come here an hour ago so I wouldn't have had to go into that confining crevice?"

"I didn't even notice there was an opening there until your voice came out of it," the red dragonet responded. "I thought you'd flown off somewhere."

"Not a chance," Cornice replied, making a face. "You told me I'd end up crashing into a mountain again if I tried to fly anywhere so soon, remember?"

"I wasn't sure you'd actually listen," Ozone admitted, tilting his head to one side as if reevaluating his opinion of the ice dragon. "I mean, I know you said you would, but your tone kind of made me think otherwise."

"What's wrong with my tone?" Cornice asked, a little defensively.

"Nothing," Ozone said, ducking his head. It was only then that Cornice noticed the scratch across his snout. The red of the wound was similar to the SkyWing's scarlet scales, but it stood out against the golden starburst marking on his snout and forehead. "I just wasn't sure if you were joking or not."

"IceWings don't joke a lot," Cornice said, not sure whether it was appropriate for him to be amused by the misunderstanding. "Anyway—what happened to your nose?"

Ozone touched the injury as if checking whether it was still there. "It's kind of a long story."

Cornice shrugged. "Honestly, after being alone for so long, I wouldn't object to hearing it." He wasn't sure if Ozone would want to tell him what had happened—he wouldn't want to discuss it if their roles had been reversed—but he was mildly desperate to think about something besides himself and how much he missed the Ice Kingdom for at least a little while. It was starting to become kind of pathetic.

Ozone gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not Cornice genuinely wanted to hear about it. Apparently, he found something sincere in the white dragon's face, because he nodded decisively.

"One of the other soldiers-in-training, Gale, hates me," the SkyWing began. "She always has, ever since her lifelong rival, Sard, decided that she wanted to be my friend. I've tried to stay out of Gale's way whenever possible, but that's not enough. She hates when our commander, Claret, pays me any attention. So Gale has always tended to pick on me as much as she can without resorting to physical violence." He paused, sounding like he was trying to determine whether to continue speaking or fall silent.

"What changed?" Cornice asked, deciding not to comment on how dramatic all these SkyWings seemed to be. IceWings were always focused on the top. They didn't get involved in anything as trivial as rivalries, because obsessing over one dragon meant ignoring all the other potential threats.

Ozone hesitated before answering. "The other day, we visited a new SandWing base along their side of the border between our kingdoms. I was spending some time with a trio of SandWings... and we started talking about who I considered my friends and who were my rivals. I tried not to speak too badly about Gale, but that didn't end up counting for anything. She saw them look over at her when I mentioned her... and how could she possibly know that I hadn't insulted her?" He shrugged helplessly, looking as if he wanted to say more but then seeming to think better of it.

 _So there's a SandWing base somewhere near here, too,_ Cornice thought. _That means I'm twice as likely to get in some serious trouble if I'm discovered. I hope Ozone knows that—and I hope he knows how to be discreet about coming here._

"Why are you sticking up for someone who hates you?" he asked, zeroing in on the other piece of important information he'd picked up.

Ozone looked startled. "What do you mean?"

"You're making this out to be your own fault," Cornice pointed out sharply. "That Gale scratched you, I mean." _And there's something you're shying away from telling me—like you're trying to protect someone. But who—Gale? And if it's her, why?_

"But it was," the SkyWing said uncomfortably. "I provoked her."

"If the other dragonet—Sard?—decided to be friends with you, it's _her_ fault that Gale doesn't like you," Cornice corrected him. He could already tell that Ozone probably wasn't an active participant in the hostility—the dragon barely spoke five words at a time unless he was explaining something. "And since _Gale_ bullies _you_ , it's hardly fair to blame yourself for the incident—except for not standing up to her when she went after you. I don't know why you'd let her push you around. Just push _back_."

He tilted his head to one side, studying Ozone's startled expression. "As for the bit with the SandWings, I think you'd be perfectly justified telling them whatever you wanted about her... even though I can't imagine why you would give them any more details about your tribe than strictly necessary."

"But—" Ozone protested, and then apparently decided not to argue.

Cornice narrowed his eyes. "If that's not the case, say so."

The SkyWing lowered his head and said nothing.

Even knowing that Ozone lacked confidence, Cornice was startled by how easily he'd given up, when he obviously didn't agree with the IceWing's reasoning. Cornice never surrendered that quickly... except maybe against his father. _No wonder this Gale character seems to walk all over him._

 _Should I say something?_ Cornice wondered. _I might be able to stamp out his insecurities the way my mother would mine. He could certainly use the help._

But he doubted Ozone would see the IceWing harshness in the same light he did, and stressing the SkyWing out further over the situation wouldn't be a very good way to repay him for his help. Ozone had treated his injuries and brought him food and offered to nurse him completely back to health—all without asking for anything in return.

"So, are you going to teach me stretches or not?" he asked instead. If Ozone was soft-hearted enough to help without demanding payment, that was his problem, not Cornice's. That didn't mean the IceWing was obligated to feel any gratitude towards a dragon of a lesser tribe—or to try to pay him back.

But as Ozone obligingly demonstrated the stretches, explaining which muscles they would strengthen and how they worked together to enable flight, Cornice saw a sincerity in his orange eyes that he'd never seen in any IceWing's. And even though he firmly believed that he didn't _need_ to repay Ozone, that unconditional openness made him feel like he was starting to want to.

The only question was... how?


	11. Chapter 10

**AN: The story may seem very short-paced right now, but I've actually been building up important background information in the past few chapters and will continue to do so for a while longer. That being said, I wonder if any of you will be able to put the pieces together and be able to accurately predict where the story is going from here...**

* * *

 _Dear Ozone,_

 _Ever since your tribe's visit, things have gone back to boring normality. Getting up early, training, etc. Kulta says that was only to be expected, but Tumbleweed and I are both disappointed by the lack of liveliness. Our soldiers-in-training actually put a lot of time and effort into preparing that meeting with all of you, and now that the big event has come and gone, falling back into our old routine is hard._

 _Not that we really need to go back to our old routine. Sometimes dealing with all the formality can be tedious, especially considering the tribes haven't been at war in years. I'd like to think that we're at least a bit more civilized than the big dragons give us credit for! Honestly, we got through a whole day of being crowded together and no one started planning world domination yet, right?_

 _Tumbleweed is giving me a disapproving face as she not-so-subtly reads what I'm writing over my shoulder. Is it too soon to make jokes about how SandWings seem to always start the big conflicts? Tell me what you think._

 _Your friend, Jackal_

* * *

 _Dear Jackal,_

 _Settling into our old schedule wasn't as big of an event as it seems to have been in the Sand Kingdom, but it does seem strange how no one really mentions it. In the months we've been training together, we haven't been on an outing like that before, but it doesn't seem to have made a lasting impression on any of the other dragonets._

 _I still haven't asked Claret about going to Possibility, since I've been doing a lot of flying off after training lately, and I don't want to pester her with too many requests around the same time. I like being by myself sometimes. It helps clear my head._

 _I can see the humor in world-domination themed jokes, but it does seem a little too soon. Maybe wait until all the_ _grumpy_ _old generals like Spark retire? I don't know if I mentioned him the other day, but he's my other supervisor besides Claret. He has a lot of experience, so you learn a lot talking to him, but he can be awfully prejudiced. He's also a little deaf, so he might not pick up your joking tone._

 _Your friend, Ozone_

* * *

 _Dear Ozone,_

 _So you speak up at last! I guess you write more readily than you talk. That's understandable, I suppose. Tumbleweed does have a tendency to run her mouth and drown out all the other voices in any conversation she happens to participate in. And before you ask the obvious question here—how I can get away with slandering her like that—she's out hunting right now, not snooping over my shoulder. One point for me!_

 _Take all the time you need! I think it's better to wait until the novelty of letter-writing has worn off anyway. After we all go visit Possibility together, everything else will probably seem pretty lackluster by comparison. For now, though, I have to admit it is rather entertaining to imagine your serious face as you reply with the utmost sincerity to my joking tone._

 _Flying clears your head, huh? I know quiet dragons are deeper than they seem, but I never would have guessed you have so much in your mind that it gets cluttered!_

 _Ah, I've never been too good at avoiding anyone's sensitivities with my jokes. Kulta warns me that my tendency towards inappropriate humor is going to earn me a barb to the face one day, but I know she doesn't really hate me, so she'll step in to save my neck if that becomes necessary. Reassuring, right? I suppose you don't really have that problem, though. You're much too quiet to accidentally offend someone!_

 _Your friend, Jackal_

* * *

 _Dear Jackal,_

 _Sorry if it seems like I don't talk much. I'm always so thoroughly lost in thought that I don't always realize I never respond to half the comments I want to! Writing is easier, because if I spend all my time just thinking, there's not enough on the paper to send. I guess I just follow my train of thought._

 _Actually, about offending dragons... Gale was furious with me when we came back from the inter-tribal meeting. I guess she took out her anger at the unsatisfactory results of your fight with her out on me. I hate to be pessimistic about anything, but I look at the quarreling among my own tribe and sometimes wonder how the whole world can stay at peace when there's so much fighting every day._

 _Sorry if I got a little too serious-faced in your imagination there. It's just that for some reason, you strike me as someone who would understand. Sard's funny, but I don't think she really gets me as much as I'd like to pretend sometimes, so I don't even bother trying to tell her this kind of thing._

 _Your friend, Ozone_

* * *

 _Ozone,_

 _No worries—I know how to deal with quiet dragons! You're a bit like a more openly friendly version of Kulta, actually. She doesn't laugh much, but she'll smile at me when I joke around sometimes, like she just can't help it. You're probably surprised to hear that you have anything in common with Kulta, but you do—really! She might seem a little scary sometimes, but she's really loyal and surprisingly dedicated to the utopian future of Pyrrhia everyone dreams of._

 _What do you see when you think of the future, Ozone? You seem like an idealist, and I'm curious to see if your vision is anything like ours._

 _It's interesting how you sometimes get along better with dragons outside your tribe than your peers, isn't it? I have Tumbleweed and Kulta for decent company (I'm kidding, of course—they're the best!), but I couldn't feel more distant from the rest of my fellow soldiers. Sometimes the idea of a tribe being made up of only dragons who look like you and have the same skills as you seems ludicrous to me. Do you ever feel the same way, Ozone?_

 _Jackal_

* * *

Ozone still wasn't entirely sure why he'd decided to open up to Jackal so much, but as he read the most recent letter the SandWing had sent him, he was glad that he'd decided to. Telling Cornice about the incident with Gale hadn't relieved the burden the way he'd expected it to, and he'd found himself looking for someone to share the heart of his worries with. Jackal, who'd been nothing but humorous since the day they'd met, hadn't seemed like the perfect dragon to unload his worries to, but something about the blank paper—knowing that the SandWing's fathomless black eyes would eventually take in whatever he wrote—compelled him to fill the emptiness between them with words, the same way Cornice's sharp blue gaze did.

Ozone wasn't sure he knew what Jackal was talking about. He hadn't ever really felt limited by having only SkyWings in his troops. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Jackal was right. In a perfect world, he could train with Jackal and Tumbleweed and Kulta instead, and no one would find their friendship strange.

Not the way Sard did, wrinkling her snout whenever she found Ozone curled up with a letter from his SandWing friend. She never commented on the frequency of their communication—every day, Ozone either sent or received a letter through the MudWing who acted as their messenger—but he could tell it irked her, simply because Jackal was a SandWing. A potentially dangerous outsider.

She would look at Cornice that way, too, if she knew he existed.

 _I should check on him,_ Ozone decided. It had been several days since he'd taught the IceWing the necessary stretches to relieve stiffness in his muscles, and Cornice was probably immensely bored. Besides, the longer Ozone sat there, the more he could feel his thoughts turning uncharacteristically bitter. He needed to clear his head. He'd write back to Jackal later, when he'd have more time for a thoughtful response.

When he arrived at the cave, Cornice nodded in greeting.

"I was wondering when I'd see you again," he told Ozone. "I've been using your stretches to strengthen my wing, and I finally feel ready to fly again. But, um, I was wondering if you'd come with me... just in case I'm wrong and I start falling out of the sky." He rubbed the back of his neck below his mane of spikes, and Ozone could tell that the IceWing was embarrassed to be asking, torn between pride and practicality.

"Of course," he responded lightly. To him, it wasn't a big deal.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, though," Cornice went on, an edge of his usual bravado returning to his voice. He lifted his chin proudly.

"I'm sure it will," Ozone said agreeably. The IceWing shot him a suspicious look, and Ozone gazed back with guileless orange eyes. "Are you ready?"

Cornice gave a sharp nod.

"Okay," Ozone responded, trying (and probably failing) to match the IceWing's confidence. While he knew in theory how restoring a dragon to flight worked, actually using the information was something very different. "I'll go first so that I'm already in the air to catch you if anything goes wrong, and I'll let you know when to follow."

"Fine," Cornice agreed, but Ozone thought he saw a faint glimpse of nervousness glittering behind the cool look in the other dragon's blue eyes.

 _I hope those stretches did the trick,_ Ozone thought worriedly. _I hope I don't just accidentally make Cornice's injuries worse by letting him fly before he's ready._ With his claws curled around the edge of the cave floor, the ground looked very far below him. Falling wasn't something most dragons feared, but without fully-functional wings, the jagged rocks beneath him looked like enormous, deadly teeth.

He leapt into the air, feeling relieved when the wind caught him like it always did. He angled his wings to glide, testing the breeze. The mountains on either side of them created a wind tunnel, so the gusting air felt steady and strong beneath his wings.

"All right," he called to Cornice. "You can come out now!"

The white dragon stuck his head out of the cave, his wings partially extended to feel the air currents. After holding them out tentatively for a moment, he disappeared back into the cavern. Ozone had only a moment to wonder what he was doing before the IceWing came racing back towards the mouth of the cave and launched himself, with a running start, straight into the wind.

Ozone's heart lurched as the white dragon plummeted, but Cornice's wings soon caught the breeze and held him aloft. With a few surprisingly steady flaps, he rose to the same height as Ozone, who had been hovering anxiously nearby.

"You did it!" he called to Cornice, and flew a triumphant loop-de-loop in the air.

Cornice wrinkled his snout at the SkyWing's acrobatics. "Nope, definitely not trying that anytime soon."

Feeling light with relief, Ozone barked a laugh. "Come on, let's keep flying for a while. I'll show you some of the Sky Kingdom."

Cornice nodded in agreement. "If I've really left the Ice Kingdom behind forever, it's time I started to see the rest of the world."

Ozone flew up higher in the air, looking around to make sure that there were no other dragons in sight. He'd believed Cornice when he'd said that he didn't want any trouble, but his fellow SkyWings might be more suspicious. To his relief, the sky around them seemed completely empty. Still, it might be safer to fly above the thick cloud cover the universe had given them today, though Ozone would have to be careful to make sure Cornice didn't struggle in the thinner air.

Ozone led the way higher by catching an updraft with his wings. He couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment as he felt the breeze ruffle through his ears and stir his wings. Flying through the mountains was something he'd never get enough of.

Ozone twisted in midair to look back at Cornice, who was flying a considerable distance behind him. In direct light, Cornice's white scales glittered, not as harshly as sunbeams reflected by ice, but more softly—like moonlight on freshly-fallen snow. His brows were furrowed in concentration at first, but his scowl lessened as he managed to fly along for a while without falling. As Ozone watched him, he glanced off at the range of mountains on the horizon, some untouchable emotion glistening in his gaze.

 _He's probably glad to feel the wind under his wings again,_ Ozone thought with a smile. _Or is that something that only SkyWings love?_ He couldn't imagine not getting a thrill every time he took flight, not relishing in the feeling of the air holding him aloft and the sight of trees far below, diminished to specks by their immense distance.

Following the IceWing's gaze, he saw something white shining on the horizon. _That must be the edges of the Ice Kingdom,_ he realized. _Cornice must miss it, even if he tries to pretend otherwise. I wonder what made him leave._

This wasn't the first time he'd been curious about Cornice's past, but he shoved away his desire to ask any questions. If Cornice didn't want to talk about it, it wasn't his place to ask. Ozone had offered to help, and he didn't like the thought of being a dragon who helped only if he got something in return—in this case, answers.

As they ascended through the clouds, Ozone felt airy wetness kiss his scales. He turned around to see how Cornice was faring, and saw that the droplets of condensation on his scales only made him sparkle even more beautifully.

Cornice gave a surprised-sounding laugh. "We look like we've just come out of the ocean. I didn't expect to get so wet flying through clouds!"

"They look soft and warm from the ground," Ozone agreed, "but they're actually wet and cold, like a very thick fog. My dragonet self was very surprised the first time I flew up this high." He smiled at the memory.

"How old were you?" Cornice asked. When Ozone glanced at him, he was a little surprised to find the IceWing deep in thought, as if trying to picture the scene.

"About two or three," he responded. "SkyWings learn to fly at a younger age than most other tribes, but we don't have enough stamina to get up this high until later. The air is thinner here, so you have to flap harder. Speaking of which—how do you feel?"

Cornice was breathing a little heavily, but his wing beats were steady. "Fine."

Ozone wasn't sure if that was really the truth. From what he'd seen of Cornice, the ice dragon could be proud and a little defensive at times. He probably wouldn't tell Ozone there was anything wrong unless he was actively falling out of the sky. "Still," the SkyWing said in a neutral voice, "we probably shouldn't stay up here much longer. You can fly again, but you still don't want to push yourself too hard."

Cornice snorted. "I've pushed myself harder before."

 _He's hard to figure out,_ Ozone thought. _His words and tone make it seem like he dismisses what I'm saying, but I know he has been listening. He didn't fly off before he was ready, and he's been doing the stretches I taught him. Is it possible that he values my opinion more than he wants to admit?_ As far as he knew, no one had ever asked for or really cared about his opinion before—even the dragons who liked him.

 _That's probably because I'm not confident enough,_ he realized. _But confidence is not something I can force myself to have._

He flew in slow circles as he thought, absentmindedly watching as Cornice tested the strength of his wing by performing small dives and banking turns.

"All right," the white dragon said at last. "I guess I'm ready to go back now."

Ozone glanced at his face and saw that he was clenching his jaw a little. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, Cornice was starting to tire. After going for such a long time without flying, he'd need to build up his stamina again.

Ozone nodded and obligingly angled his wings to fly below the cloud cover again. Cornice followed more slowly, and when Ozone glanced back at him, he saw that the ice dragon's flying had become a bit wobbly. He was favoring his uninjured wing, making him tilt ever-so-slightly to the left.

As they descended to the cave, the tilt became steadily more pronounced until Ozone shifted to support the injured wing with the wind from his own flapping. Cornice shot him an embarrassed yet grateful look.

They parachuted their wings to land in the mouth of the cave, and Ozone couldn't help feeling relieved when they both touched down safely. He wanted to help Cornice as much as he could, and that meant taking risks here and there, but he always worried that the other dragon would get hurt and that he'd feel responsible.

"How does your wing feel?" he asked, turning to Cornice and studying the patch of snowy-white scales, unbroken apart from a faint blue line that was probably a scar.

"Decent," the IceWing answered, flexing it experimentally. He didn't wince, but his eyes did harden ever-so-slightly, and Ozone guessed that movement was still a little painful. "Everything was going well until I started listing to the side towards the end."

"Still, at least that means the stretches have been working," Ozone pointed out optimistically. "I wasn't one hundred percent sure they were."

Cornice smacked him with his good wing. "I'm not one hundred percent sure it was a good idea to put my faith in you." His cold aura felt especially chilling against the water droplets still clinging to Ozone's scales.

Ozone wasn't entirely certain he'd been joking, but it was hard not to laugh at the other dragonet's retort. He ducked his head to hide his amusement.

Cornice seemed to notice it anyway, glancing sideways at Ozone with a hint of something like contempt in his eyes. Their gazes caught each other, and the harshness in Cornice's eyes faded as they held Ozone's for a long moment. Then the IceWing shook his mane as if ridding himself of an annoying insect and looked away.

"I've been doing those dumb stretches every day since you taught them to me," he said. "If I'd known you were probably wasting my time..."

"I wasn't," Ozone reminded him. "There's no stiffness anymore, right?"

"I suppose you're right," Cornice sniffed. "Congratulate yourself if you must." He glanced at Ozone again—very briefly, as if looking for something, and the SkyWing could tell that he was at least half-joking this time.

Ozone laughed, and Cornice's eyebrows lifted as if he'd been pleasantly surprised.

He wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Ozone had come to think of Cornice as his friend.


	12. Chapter 11

**AN: This is the last chapter I have pre-written up to this point, and with school starting again for me next week, I'm not sure how much time I'll have to work on the story. It will continue to remain my priority, but I want to let you know that I can't guarantee I'll be able to keep up with the weekly updates. More likely than not, I'll end up posting chapters as I finish them, which will be at seemingly random intervals. I'll try my best to give you updates as often as possible.**

 **Thank you all for your continued support!**

* * *

"Tell me about the rest of Pyrrhia," Cornice said, searching Ozone's orange eyes as if he could absorb all the things they'd seen. He knew Ozone didn't think of his life as anything special, but the SkyWing knew so much more than Cornice about the rest of the world. Cornice had never seen anything but the Ice Kingdom.

But if he was going to be a traveler, looking for his place in the world, he couldn't face the rest of the continent blindly. He had to learn as much as he could.

However, getting Ozone to talk wasn't easy. In fact, it a lot like prying open a shellfish, the kind his older sister brought back from whatever unusual place she hunted in.

 _Don't,_ he warned himself, but when it came to his life back in the Ice Kingdom, one tiny memory could set off the chain of loneliness and bitterness.

Cornice remembered his sister showing him how to open shells, how he fumbled them with clumsy dragonet talons, how she taught him how use the ridged part of his claws to open the shells, and how very rarely, they would find pearls. He remembered putting all the pearls together in a bowl until they finally had enough to string together to make a necklace. He remembered how they'd taken turns wearing it from that day on, how big it had been on him but how much he had loved it anyway.

He'd been three years old when he stopped wearing the necklace. He hadn't seen his sister wear it in years either, wasn't even sure that she still had it. After their father's secret had come out, they'd stopped being close. Days had gone by when he wouldn't even speak to her, blaming her and Sigma both for the way his structured life had fallen apart.

But he still remembered how close they'd been back then.

 _She's not really my sister,_ he thought fiercely, with an irritable flick of his ears. _No real IceWing could ever think of a red-bleeder as his sibling._

He hated how every little thing brought him back to the dragons and the life he'd left behind. He'd run away from the Ice Kingdom, crashed into a mountain, and spent the last two weeks stuck in a cave so that he could be free of them. And yet every day, something made him think of them.

 _You're still getting used to being alone,_ he told himself. _You'll forget about them soon enough, and you'll be much happier once you do._ But a small part of him doubted that the sharp fragments of memory would ever smooth over. The hardness in his heart thawed at times, but it always seemed to freeze over again, as jagged as ever.

"What do you want to know about?" Ozone asked, his thoughtful voice bringing Cornice back to the present. It had been only a day since he'd taken Cornice out flying, but he'd returned to make sure the IceWing hadn't had any extra soreness in his wing from using the muscles again. Cornice felt perfectly fine, but Ozone had warned him to wait a day before flying again, and he'd reluctantly obliged.

"Everything," the IceWing answered honestly.

Ozone smiled, the golden scales on his snout crinkling in amusement. "Well, I haven't been as far as the Sea or Rainforest Kingdoms—or the Ice Kingdom, of course— but I have been on short trips to the Mud and Sand Kingdoms. And I've read stories about the others and learned some of their history."

"That's more than I know," Cornice said wistfully.

"The Sea Kingdom is located off to the east," Ozone began, "on a chain of islands and the shores of the mainland. According to my friend Jackal, some SeaWings have also moved to the west coast in recent years. Those dragons prefer the cold water near the Ice Kingdom instead."

"I know," Cornice said. "Unfortunately, I've met some."

Ozone looked surprised. "Why unfortunately?"

Cornice growled softly. "They cause too much trouble."

Ozone still looked curious, but he didn't ask any more questions. That was one of the things Cornice had come to like about the SkyWing; he could either speak his mind completely or hold back any information he didn't feel like sharing, and Ozone wouldn't judge him either way. Cornice wasn't sure he wanted to admit it, but he knew would miss Ozone (at least a little) when he left the Sky Kingdom.

"The Rainforest Kingdom is home to two tribes under the rule of one queen who has both RainWing and NightWing ancestry," Ozone continued. "The RainWings and NightWings each have their own distinct villages, but there's also a mixed town where dragons from both tribes live together. RainWing-NightWing hybrids make up about twenty percent of the rainforest population. The NightWings were much smaller than any other tribe when they moved to the Rainforest Kingdom about a hundred and fifty years ago, but they've grown a lot since then. They're now much closer in size to the RainWing tribe, making up about thirty-two percent of the rainforest population. The remaining thirty-eight percent, of course, are RainWings."

"How do you know all this off the top of your head?" Cornice asked, astounded.

Ozone shrugged. "I learned it from Spark in our history lessons. I thought it was interesting, so I just kind of remembered it. It's one of the many essentially useless facts that's been floating around in my brain."

"Well, it's finally coming in handy now," Cornice pointed out, amused. He had to admit he was impressed. IceWings had to memorize the names of all their fellow nobles in order of rank, but it took lots of time and effort. He couldn't imagine just happening to remember something mentioned in passing in a class.

"Obviously, you've been to the Ice Kingdom, so I don't need to tell you about that one," Ozone said, counting on his talons. "I've heard it's really pretty there, though."

"I suppose," Cornice said, trying not to think about it. He'd never been one to see much use in beautiful things, though he did have to admit he missed seeing the contrast of dazzling white ice and deep blue water.

"The Mud Kingdom," Ozone went on, "is made of swampland. I've been there a few times. MudWings are brown dragons, so you might expect everything to look dull and muddy, but there's actually a lot of verdant plants and pools of water. I remember the trees having a pleasant fragrance, too. The Sky Kingdom has some trees, too, but the farther you go up the mountains, the fewer you'll see. I'd never been in a place with so much foliage before, so that made a big impression on me."

Cornice noticed that while Ozone had been discussing more factual things about the Sea and Rainforest Kingdoms, he'd switched over to a more anecdotal description for the kingdom he'd actually traveled to. _I guess the landscape and the atmosphere are the things that he cares about the most when seeing the rest of the world, not really the society or history of the other tribes._

 _What other soldier would be sent on a mission and stop to notice these things?_ Ozone was certainly more unique than anyone else he'd ever met. He was surprised to find that he felt a spark of affection at the thought rather than his usual disdain.

"Go on," he told Ozone, who'd paused to study his thoughtful expression.

"I haven't seen much of the Sand Kingdom," the SkyWing admitted, "but I have seen that the rock formations aren't as large as our mountains, because there are lots of sandstorms which erode the stone. There also very little plant life. It's extremely hot during the day, but the lack of water makes the land lose heat rapidly during the night, when it gets very cold, sometimes even below freezing. That's why SandWings' scales give off heat—so that they can keep warm at night."

"Huh," Cornice commented. "I never knew that."

"Interesting, isn't it?" Ozone said, looking pleased. This was the most confident Cornice had ever seen him look, rattling off information the IceWing would never even dream of retaining in a surprisingly conversational tone.

Cornice nodded in agreement. "What else is there to know?"

"SandWings live in oases," Ozone explained, "so it's hard to describe their shared culture. According to Ridge—he's another dragon I train with—one of the few things they all have in common is their respect for strength."

Cornice perked up at that. Maybe there was another tribe he could reason with, who thought at least somewhat similarly to an IceWing.

"The Scorpion Den and the palace are the biggest oases," Ozone continued. "The desert is a harsh environment, so there are a lot of bandits and assassins, but there are also a lot of glassblowers due to the abundance of sand. They sell their crafts all over Pyrrhia. Traveling merchants came to my hometown once, and my mother bought me one of their pieces. It was a paperweight with a piece of cactus inside." He fell silent, his expression becoming one of fond remembrance.

"What happened to it?" Cornice felt obligated to ask. Normally he wouldn't think twice about such useless baubles, but Ozone's interest in them was oddly contagious. There was something about the SkyWing's sincere pleasure in talking about it, Cornice decided, that made him want to hear more.

"I left it at home," Ozone responded wistfully. "I didn't want to risk accidentally damaging it by bringing it to the base with me. It's the most valuable thing I own... at least in my opinion."

"What did you like about it?" Cornice asked, trying to find a way to understand the other dragon's feelings. He didn't care about nonsensical trinkets.

"It caught the light nicely," the SkyWing explained, his gaze distant, as if he were looking at an image of the ball in his mind's eye. "And it was so cool and smooth to the touch... I would run my claws over it just to feel it. The piece of cactus inside was really cool too. I liked how spiky it looked. The whole thing was just really pretty."

Cornice turned over the information in his mind. "So you like... beautiful things."

Slowly, as if he weren't sure how the IceWing would react, Ozone nodded.

Cornice was starting to get an idea. "How do you feel about colorful things?"

"I like them," Ozone answered, looking perplexed. "Especially colors in nature, like different shades of green and sunset hues and things like that."

"Oh, okay," Cornice responded. "Excellent."

"Why do you ask?" Ozone asked, tilting his head to one side.

"No reason," the white dragon responded nonchalantly.

Ozone wrinkled his snout skeptically, but didn't pry any further.

"How do the SandWings feel about outsiders?" Cornice asked him, deliberately changing the subject. "Do you know?"

"Well, Jackal and the others were nice to me," Ozone responded uncertainly, "but I imagine that's one of the things that would be different depending on who you asked. It's hard to say, because what Ridge told me contrasted so much with the dragons I met, but he usually knows what he's talking about. I'd trust what he said about their respect for dragons who are strong."

"So, if I wanted to join them," Cornice ventured, "do you think they'd accept me?"

Ozone looked hesitant. "Maybe. But... it would probably be too hot for you in the desert."

"Oh," the IceWing said, disappointed. "I forgot about that."

Ozone touched his shoulder with one wing, lightly, as if he wanted to comfort the other dragon but wasn't sure the gesture would be appreciated. "Don't worry, Cornice. It might take a while, but you'll find someplace you belong one day."

Some part of him—the fierce IceWing warrior he'd always been at home—wanted to shove the SkyWing away, but another part of him—the lonely, tribeless dragon he'd become—appreciated Ozone's concern. His tail twitched slightly, almost instinctively, but he kept himself deliberately still instead of shrugging off the other dragon's wing. "I hope you're right," he sighed.

"Actually," Ozone said, "I know how you feel. Even though I have a place with my fellow soldiers-in-training, sometimes it feels like I don't belong there. I think you've gotten to know me by now, and you know I'm not a fighter."

Wordlessly, Cornice nodded.

"I don't want to be a soldier," the other dragon admitted. "I want to go out and see the world. But by definition, there's no real place for wanderers."

Perhaps it was because Ozone was being so real and vulnerably open, or perhaps it was because he felt desperately lost in a world he'd never imagined he'd need to know. Whatever the reason, Cornice felt the words spill out of his mouth. "I don't even know what I want anymore."

For a long moment, both of them were silent.

Then Ozone said, very quietly, "I think that's okay sometimes."

For the first time, Cornice got the feeling that there was someone who not only understood his feelings, but completely accepted them. And it was a good feeling.

He was grateful for it, but as much as he wanted to tell that to Ozone, he found that when he opened his mouth, the words _thank you_ wouldn't rise to his tongue. It had been a long time since he'd genuinely wanted to thank anyone.

"You should head back to your base now," he said instead, pulling away from Ozone's touch. "You've never come two days in a row before, and you don't want to stay too long and make your commander suspicious."

The SkyWing nodded hastily. "You're right."

He backed away towards the edge of the cave, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but then closed it without saying anything as he turned around to fly away. And while he didn't so much as glance back over his shoulder, Cornice knew that Ozone must be able to feel the pair of blue eyes watching him until he disappeared completely from sight.


	13. Chapter 12

**AN: Hi there, everyone! It's been a while since I last updated this story, and it's about time I finally added the next chapter. I'm not totally satisfied with how it turned out, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer (I know how it feels to be left in the dark!). Feedback of any kind would be highly appreciated (as long as you aren't mean to me), and I'd love to see if any of you have any theories about where the story is going from here, but like always, anyone who even just reads it means the world to me. :)**

* * *

Ozone didn't know if he'd gotten through to Cornice at all. For a moment, as he'd rested his wing against the chilly scales of the IceWing's shoulder, he'd thought he saw a truly vulnerable look on the other dragon's face. But then Cornice had pulled away and the moment had gone. When he spoke, it was only to essentially tell Ozone to go away.

As he flew back to the SkyWings' base, Ozone told himself that it didn't matter if Cornice had really listened to him or not. He was helping the IceWing recover, and once he was better, he would fly away and they'd probably never see each other again. They were bound by one particularly lengthy good deed and that was all.

But he couldn't shake the strangely hurt feeling from his chest.

Buzzard was standing guard at the base's entrance cave, and gave Ozone a nod of greeting as he landed. The smaller dragonet waved back absentmindedly, still deep in thought, and headed along the tunnel to his cave.

 _I should finish my letter to Jackal,_ he decided, trying to distract himself. He had started writing back when he'd returned from visiting Cornice the day before, but hadn't had time to finish it before Ridge and Buzzard agreed it was time to blow out the torches in their room so they could get some sleep.

Now, he scanned what he'd already written:

 _Dear Jackal,_

 _I think having a tribal identity can be a good thing, but I've always fallen outside what the SkyWings consider a typical dragon. I guess I can understand wanting to stick with dragons who are more like you in personality than skills or appearances, but I think it's also important to remember where you come from. Sorry if that's not the clearest answer! I tend to weigh both sides of any given situation rather than pick one, something that drives my mother crazy._

 _But I guess that proves your point. The ideal SkyWing is supposed to be strong and confident all the time. If I'm being perfectly honest, I don't think I'm either of those things most of the time. If anything, I'm more of a RainWing at heart._

He hoped Jackal would find that last bit funny. Ozone had been going for humor when he'd written it, but it also had a ring of truth to it. He liked taking things easy and admiring beauty, which was something he'd grown up hearing about RainWings. Now, as he held his half-written letter in his claws, he wondered if there were any RainWings that hated the slow pace of rainforest life and loved the thrill of fighting.

He glanced at the most recent letter he'd received from Jackal. He'd answered the last paragraph first, since it seemed the most important at the moment, and now his eyes skipped back to the first one. He re-digested the information comparing him to Kulta and zeroed in on the last sentence and the small second paragraph.

 _She might seem a little scary sometimes, but she's really loyal and surprisingly dedicated to the utopian future of Pyrrhia everyone dreams of._

 _What do you see when you think of the future, Ozone? You seem like an idealist, and I'm curious to see if your vision is anything like ours._

Jackal had said "ours", not "hers". That seemed to indicate that he and Kulta had the same dream, which was a little surprising to Ozone. The two SandWings seemed like they couldn't be more different, especially if Kulta was somehow like him.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't know much about Jackal at all, even after exchanging nearly daily letters. His SandWing friend had a tendency to talk in a way that didn't reveal much even when he was speaking about himself. Ozone knew that he was funny and open-minded about the different tribes, but he knew nothing about what Jackal liked to do or where he came from. Between their first meeting and the letters they'd written since, Jackal had done a lot of talking... and almost none of it had been about himself. Even Ozone, who was naturally reserved, had shared a lot more.

 _I'm too reserved to have any huge vision for the entire continent,_ he admitted to the paper in front of him. _But I guess if I did, I would like to see more events for all the tribes to interact in. It's unfortunate that we don't mingle more. Instead of thinking of dragonkind as a whole, we divide ourselves into different tribes, and while I can see the importance of our heritage, it isn't the only thing that matters in the long run._

 _I guess I just came up with a dream on the spot. What's yours?_

Part of him wanted to write more, but Ozone ultimately decided to cut it off there. He wanted to leave it open-ended and try to get more of a response from Jackal. Thus far, the SandWing had come up with the topics they talked about and bounced them off Ozone, who gave detailed answers. He wanted to see Jackal do the talking now.

Still, ending it there didn't seem quite right. Ozone decided to leave what he had for now and come back to it later if he thought of a good way to finish it off. Feeling a little restless, he wandered out into the hall, aiming for the entrance cave. Perhaps he would go catch a quick bite to eat.

"I'm going out to hunt," Ozone told Buzzard as he passed by the orange dragonet in the entrance cave, in case anyone (read: Claret) came looking him for some reason. Buzzard only gave a disinterested grunt in response.

The pale orange dragonet seemed considerably more awake when he returned.

"Watch out for Gale," he warned. "She just came stomping by in a rage while you were gone. Roaring something about 'stupid SandWings'."

Ozone's talons, having just been working on a letter to a dragon from the tribe in question, seemed to tingle guiltily. "Why is she angry?"

Buzzard only shrugged unhelpfully. "How should I know? Gale and her lighting-strike temper never make much sense, do they?"

Sard would have been simply ecstatic if she'd overheard this maligning of Gale's character, but Ozone only frowned. The pinkish dragonet's moods never turned out well for him. He'd have to sneak back to his room as soon as he could, wait out the storm of Gale's fury, and hope he didn't encounter her in the meantime.

It seemed even that was too much to hope for.

The tunnels of the SkyWing's base were hazy with smoke, and Ozone struggled to see even with the torches lit along the walls. He felt talons accidentally stomp on his as he collided with Ridge in the hallway.

"Sorry, Ozone!" the red-orange dragonet said, hurriedly shifting his weight off of Ozone's foot. "I didn't see you there until it was too late."

"It's okay," Ozone started to say, but was cut off by an angry hiss.

"Ozone!" Gale snapped, catching sight of him from further down the hallway and slithering over. She glowered at him over Ridge's shoulder. "This is all your fault!"

Ozone took a step backwards in bewildered silence. _What did I do now?_

"This was not Ozone's fault," said a voice, and Claret materialized from the gloom behind the dragonet in question. "He wasn't the one who clawed you the other day—and even if he had been, it was a complete accident."

Gale looked startled for a moment before her expression shifted into one that was more sullen than ashamed. Apparently, she hadn't intended for their commander to overhear her accusations.

"Well, it was his friend…" she said petulantly.

"Even so," Claret rebuked her sternly, "it was an accident, which had nothing to do with Ozone himself. I don't approve of this kind of infighting between my recruits."

"Sorry," Gale muttered, lowering her gaze.

It was only then that Ozone noticed that the claw wound running along Gale's shoulder was swollen, the scales around sticking out at odd angles. Even in the hazy lighting, it looked incredibly painful. Ozone winced.

"Ozone is the one you should be apologizing to," Claret said, narrowing her eyes. She hadn't been there to witness most of Gale's bullying, but clearly she was aware of the ongoing tension between the female dragonet and Ozone.

Gale clenched her jaw, but even she knew better than to argue with Claret. She turned her yellow eyes, burning with suppressed hostility, on Ozone. He forced himself to meet her gaze as she forced out, "Sorry, Ozone."

"It's okay," he said, ducking his head and feeling almost embarrassed. He didn't get any satisfaction out of seeing Claret punish Gale this way, no matter how harshly the other soldier-in-training treated him.

Gale looked surprised by the lack of any triumph in his expression. Uncertainty sparked her gaze, and she backed away, tail twitching. Without looking directly at either Ridge or Claret, she turned and slunk back the way she'd come.

"What was that about?" Ridge asked, once she had disappeared from sight.

"The injury Gale sustained when we visited the SandWings has gotten infected," Claret explained. "I restricted her training to non-strenuous activity until she recovers, meaning she must remain behind whenever we leave the base. Apparently, she's feeling quite resentful and directed the blame onto Ozone."

Ridge frowned and nodded, but he didn't look too surprised.

"I suggest you keep a safe distance from her for a while," Claret warned Ozone, a little ruefully. "Go out and do something. Let some of the tension unravel."

The red-and-gold dragonet perked up at that. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you about something like that. The SandWings I befriended invited me to meet up with them at Possibility, and I wanted to set a date. Can I go sometime soon?"

Ridge gave him a somewhat skeptical look. "With Gale blaming you for the injury the SandWings gave her, are you sure that's the best idea?"

"Oh," was the only way Ozone could think to respond.

Claret, however, looked more thoughtful. "Actually, I don't think it would hurt. You don't have to tell Gale where you're going. But I don't want you going alone. Bring one of your fellow soldiers with you."

"I will," he told her, pleased to have gotten her agreement so easily.

This would be a good opportunity to hang out with Sard again. They hadn't done anything together in quite a while, he realized now that he stopped and thought about it. "I'll ask Sard if she wants to come with me."

"Good," Claret said, nodding. "Assuming she agrees and your friends aren't busy then, you can go the day after tomorrow."

"Great," Ozone responded. "Thank you, Claret!"

He then went in search of Sard, hoping he would find her somewhere besides her room so that he didn't encounter Gale again in the process. Thankfully, Sard was highly unlikely to stay any place Gale was for too long, especially if the other dragonet was particularly moody the way she was today. If they'd encountered each other, Ozone figured he would have heard a lot more noise in the bases' corridors.

He located Sard at the kitchen area, picking unenthusiastically at a piece of prey, probably more out of boredom than hunger.

"Hey, Sard," he asked, sitting down in a seat across the table from her. His friend looked up, and he asked without preamble, "Will you come with me to Possibility?"

"Sure," she said, her yellow eyes brightening. "It sounds like an interesting place. And it's been _forever_ since I went shopping."

Ozone laughed. "Great! I'll let Claret know."

"You already asked her?" Sard asked, pushing away the remains of her food.

Ozone nodded. "I'd been meaning to for a while, actually. My SandWing friends told me they wanted to meet up there, which is why I'm going. Claret said I could as long as I brought someone with me."

"Oh," Sard responded, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I see."

"Thanks for agreeing to come," he said, not sure if he'd imagined the way her tone had become just the tiniest bit cold. Sard only shrugged in response.

 _That's odd,_ Ozone thought, feeling a bit mystified by her reaction _._ Other dragons never seemed to make much sense, so he tried not to let it bother him.

He went back to his cave, where he grabbed his letter to Jackal.

 _By the way,_ he wrote hastily beneath the last paragraph. _Claret says we can go to Possibility the day after tomorrow if that date is okay with you and the others. Let me know as soon as possible, okay?_

 _Your friend, Ozone,_ he scribbled at the bottom corner of the scroll.

He rolled it up and tied it with a ribbon so it wouldn't fall open, heading for the entrance hall so he could go out to wait for Puddle, the delivery dragon from Possibility, to arrive. The exact location of the SkyWings' military base was kept strictly secret, and so Ozone needed to distance himself before he could send or receive letters.

There was a postal stop only a few minutes of flying down the riverbed, so Ozone didn't need to obtain permission from Claret in order to go there. Every once in a while, one of the soldiers-in-training would volunteer to check for letters for anyone at their base. Usually, anything in the mail was formal nonsense for Claret, but occasionally the dragonets might receive something from home.

As he flew, Ozone pushed away the last traces of worry from his mind. He had much more to be excited than worried about at this point, really. If everything went well, he would be in Possibility in two days' time.

* * *

 **AN: I'll admit, I didn't know where else to put this, so here it is:**

 **I've been working on a short Wings of Fire story about Albatross, so you can expect to see that relatively soon (which admittedly might be around a month, depending on when I have the time to wrap it up). However, you'll have to be on a lookout for it on my profile if you're interested, because it's very dark and will probably be rated M. After thinking about it for a while, I decided to give it that rating because not only is it violent (it's about the SeaWing Massacre), but I also found myself feeling a little mentally disturbed while writing it. Thinking like an insane character for any period of time is never really a good thing to do, but was necessary to write this story the right way.**

 **I'm conscious that a lot of Wings of Fire readers are a considerably younger than I am, and I don't feel comfortable posting my Albatross fanfiction under a T rating, where anyone can see it. This new story is not going to be for the faint of heart! It deals with a lot of dark subject matter, to the point where I felt a little uncomfortable writing it and almost didn't want to finish/post it. However, reading it over, I am happy with how it's turned out so far, and I hope that if you do read it, it will make you look at Albatross in a different light.**

 **Hope to see some of you there!**


	14. Chapter 13

**AN: Hi, everyone! This chapter's kind of a short one, but I also have a few announcements that make it look a little bit longer than it actually is:**

 **1\. The Albatross fanfiction is now complete! I'll be uploading it directly after I update this story, so it should be right at the top of the story list on my profile. For those of you who are interested, it's called** ** _Twisted Mind, Broken Soul._**

 **2\. I'm going to be opening a poll on my profile! You guys can decide who my next short story will be about. I need some material to work with, (so it can't be literally any character, unfortunately) but I do have a few in mind that I want to write about sooner or later, so you can pick which one I do next! If you're a fan of my short stories, be sure to check out the choices and let me know which one you want.**

 **If you're not a fan of my short stories, or you just want to get on with** ** _this_** **story already, here you go:**

* * *

Cornice tried so hard not to think about the Ice Kingdom.

He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the memories of fresh snowfalls and the scent of the crisp night air. He hastily shoved any trace of his family from his mind whenever he caught himself thinking about them.

But forcing the memories to the back of his mind during the day didn't keep them at bay while he was sleeping. He was used to the piercing chill of the Ice Kingdom; it was too hot here for him to sink into deep, dreamless slumber. Memories surfaced in his mind in bits and pieces while he stirred in light, restless sleep.

 _He saw his older sister, her gray eyes warm and friendly._

 _"_ _You're doing great, Cornice!" she'd say, without even a hint of bitterness, even though she'd never made it past the third circle. She touched her snout to the top of his head affectionately. "Keep it up and you'll make it to the first circle in no time!"_

 _"_ _I'm so proud of you, little brother," she'd said when he'd made it into the second circle, wrapping her wings around him. She'd smelled like the ocean and her embrace had been warm, but not uncomfortably so._

 _She'd caught him his favorite fish on his hatching days and wholeheartedly celebrated his achievements because she genuinely cared about him._

 _And then their family had been shamed and they had inevitably lost that close bond. After that, they would look at each other only from a distance. Sky blue eyes meeting storm gray ones. And then Cornice would look away just as his sister opened her mouth to speak, to say something kind, to try to bridge the gap between them._

 _Because Cornice didn't want to close it._

 _"_ _Why don't you leave me alone?" he'd hiss whenever her gaze lingered on him a little too long, when she strayed a little too close to reaching out to him. "I don't want anything to do with you anymore!"_

 _Yet however hard he pushed her away, the concern never left her. She could still tell that beneath the part of him which did the hurting, he was hurt too._

 _In his dreams, Cornice felt the regret that he never allowed to surface while he was awake. "I'm sorry," he whispered, even while some part of him knew that apology to an inferior dragon was weakness. "I'm sorry…"_

 _He saw his younger siblings, their sky blue eyes matching his own._

 _One, timid and shy and weak. The other, constantly fierce and filled with rage._

 _He remembered how his younger sister's claws anxiously gripped the ground whenever he came near her. How he bared his fangs and felt only satisfaction when she cringed away. How he always made her life miserable because his was too and if he had to suffer, everyone would._

 _He remembered how he and his younger brother fought. The familiar sounds of their accusatory snarls filled his mind. Cornice and the dragon he refused to call his brother, both filled with resentment and hatred. Cornice angry because he blamed his siblings for everything he had lost. His brother furious because he refused to take the constant abuse the way the other two did._

 _He remembered ridged claws slashing at each other's scales until both the pure white and the pale blue were covered in blood._

 _"_ _You're no brother to me, red-bleeder!" Cornice snarled._

 _He remembered his father towering over him after pulling the two away from each other, furious at the way Cornice treated his siblings but unable to do anything but threaten and punish him. Deep down, both father and son knew that nothing Sigma did would ever be enough._

 _Cornice would always keep picking fights with his brother, because it was so easy to instigate one and because it helped, even just a little, to release all the pent up anger and frustration boiling beneath the surface. And his brother would always fight back, because Cornice had always hated him and bullied him._

 _Cornice would never acknowledge his siblings. His rebelliousness, his cruelty—those were the only parts of his life he could still control._

 _He remembered his mother, trying to help him succeed even though they both, knew that it was a lost cause. Training with him every single day. Encouraging him when his father didn't, when his father chose to cherish the other three and forget his only legitimate son. The only one truly worthy of his love._

 _"_ _Maybe you're wrong…" whispered a traitorous part of his mind._

 _And even though in his dreams he felt traces of remorse, Cornice snarled back, "I'm not wrong! I'm his only real son! I'm the only one who really matters! The others are to blame; the others ruined everything I worked so hard to earn!"_

 _His voice shook with anger, and deeper down, despair at the unfairness of the situation. He hadn't made his father's choices. Why should he suffer for them?_

 _He should have never been thrown down into the third circle. He should still be close to the top, where he'd clawed his way up through his own effort._

 _"_ _Would you even have gotten there at all without your sister?" the tiny voice in his head, remembering all the things she'd taught hin._

 _"_ _Of course I would! I'm an IceWing—I'm stronger, I'm better…"_

And he woke up, furious at the world and furious at himself for allowing all the thoughts he pushed away during the day to rush back in while he slept. His scales felt hot and sticky, and his mouth was unbearably dry. His head pounded even though he'd slept, as if he hadn't really gotten any rest at all.

Cornice had wanted to go out flying again for days, but he'd forced himself to wait for Ozone to come back. It was too risky.

 _You used your wing once,_ he'd reminded himself, trying to temper his pride with reason. _And you didn't fall, but you did falter. Don't get a big head._

But now, he found that he couldn't resist the urge. He needed to find water, and he needed to feel the cool breeze against his overheated scales. He was sick of staying in the same cave for such a long time, sick of being absolutely powerless as he waited for a red-bleeder, of all dragons, to come along from time to time and help him.

 _I didn't need his help,_ Cornice seethed, spreading his wings and curling his claws around the mouth of the cave, looking down at the precipice below. _I could have figured out how to fix the dislocation and learn the stretches without the ditsy SkyWing._

He was lying to himself, and he knew it.

Cornice closed his eyes and forced himself to take a few calming breaths. After a long moment, his primal, senseless anger—fueled by sleep deprivation—faded, replaced with a small but steady drip of guilt. Ozone had been nothing but kind to him. It wasn't fair to take out his own shortcomings on the SkyWing.

 _This isn't Ozone's fault,_ he thought, pushing all the pieces of this puzzle into their rightful places. _I need to discipline my mind better._

He opened his eyes, feeling a little bit better now that he had a clear path to take. He might not be with the tribe anymore, might not really be an IceWing anymore, but he had been raised to be strong and confident. Discipline would always be something important to him, no matter who he was now.

Cornice would start small, start with the things he knew were still true about him. Then maybe he could figure out who exactly he was becoming.

 _I still need to go flying,_ he decided. _But I'll be careful to avoid being seen._

He flexed his legs, preparing to leap out into the air. Then he paused, went back into the cave, and stretched his muscles the way Ozone had taught him, relieving the last remnants of lingering tension, before returning to the edge of the cliff.

The wind felt blissfully cool against his itching, overheated scales. Better yet, his left wing felt steadier than it had the first time he'd gone flying again.

He angled his wings to fly upward, close to the cloud cover, where his white scales camouflaged him. Against the gray and brown stones of the valley and the green of the trees populating it, he stuck out like an iceberg floating in the sea.

The air there was moist and Cornice exhaled, allowing the cold air inside his body to freeze the water vapor clinging to his scales. The resulting frost was wonderfully cold. Feeling rejuvenated, Cornice tucked his wings to his sides and plummeted through the air for a thrilling moment before he caught himself.

Now, all he needed to do was find fresh water to quench his thirst.

Cornice dipped beneath the clouds to scan the landscape below him. There was a river running the length of the valley, but the churning water looked fast and dangerous. Even the frigid ocean waves of the Ice Kingdom didn't have such a fierce current.

 _Don't be reckless,_ he reminded himself, angling his wings to continue flying past it instead of taking the risk. _Remember what happened last time you thought you knew what you were doing. You crashed into a mountain._

Eventually, his caution was rewarded as spotted a lake far below. Scanning the area for signs SkyWings, Cornice found that the coast seemed clear.

He dove straight for the water and plunged in, feeling the chilling smoothness of it envelop him. He let himself float back to the surface, took a breath, and then drank a few gulps of the lake water. While it still had a minerally taste, it was much preferable to the stale rainwater he'd been drinking.

Once his thirst had been satisfied, he submerged himself again. Opening his eyes beneath the surface, he saw that the fish populating the lake had scattered, alarmed by the sudden splash of a dragon appearing in their midst.

Cornice couldn't help but laugh, releasing a cloud of bubbles, as he watched them flee. Compared to the open sea, hunting in this smaller body of water would be easy.

He might not have fins or gills like a SeaWing, but Cornice was a skillful swimmer nevertheless. When he'd been two years old, his mother had taught him techniques for holding his breath so he could pursue prey underwater.

He chased the largest fish he could find and cornered it between rocks near the edge of the lake. It tried to flee upward, but Cornice followed it and caught it in his jaws just as he burst through the surface, scattering water droplets everywhere.

He inhaled through his nostrils immediately, feeling relief sweep into his lungs, and set the still-struggling fish on the lakebed, pinning it down with serrated claws and killing it before it could escape. He swept his wings through the water to hover, satisfied by the successful chase, as he caught his breath.

Just then, a shadow fell over the sunlit water.

Looking up, Cornice spotted a SkyWing flying slowly overhead, turning his head from side to side with a frown of concentration on his face. Patrolling, most likely.

The dragon overhead was red with orange wings. His scales were much darker than Ozone's, and his eyes were a murky yellow color nothing like Ozone's vivid orange. One of his horns was shorter than the other, as if it had been snapped in half. In fact, the dragon was covered in scars, as if he'd fought in many battles before.

 _That must be Spark,_ Cornice guessed, his heart hammering in his chest. But he didn't care who it was. The only thing that mattered was that it wasn't Ozone, and that Cornice would be in deep trouble if the SkyWing noticed him. _Please don't see me._

Thankfully, the patrolling dragon never thought to look down. He only swept his narrowed gaze across the surrounding mountains in a slow, thoughtful search before he moved on. Cornice watched him fly away, only daring to breathe normally again once the dark red figure was small against the rocky horizon.

 _That was far too close a call,_ he thought.

Grabbing his fish, he flew back to his cave as fast as his wings would carry him.


	15. Chapter 14

**AN: This story has now surpassed 100 pages in Microsoft Word, which is surprising to me even though I've been the one working on it this whole time. Thank you all for supporting me this far! You leave the sweetest, most encouraging reviews, and I get excited every time I find a new one. And of course, I love each and every one of you. You guys are the best!**

 **If you haven't voted in my poll, I'd like to remind you all to do so! There was a problem with displaying it on my profile last time, but that's fixed now. Please give me some feedback regarding who you'd like to see a short story about! It's still open, but I'm going to be replacing it with a new poll next time I update this story, so if you'd like to vote, please do so relatively soon.**

 **I think that's all for now. Thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

The morning air was brisk against their scales as Ozone and Sard prepared to set out for Possibility. It was odd to be up before the rest of the soldiers, who wouldn't start their day until an hour later. Not only did the soft darkness give Ozone a fuzzy, sleepy feeling, but the early-morning silence pressed uncomfortably against his ears.

Sard could never be counted on to make conversation before the sun was up, so he didn't try to talk with her as she stomped around getting ready. He felt a lingering concern that she might still be annoyed with him, though she hadn't changed her mind about coming when he'd shaken her awake, so that had to count for something. Besides, her apparent grouchiness wasn't really unusual considering the time.

Ozone still remembered the day he'd met her like it was yesterday.

It had been a rainy day when the new soldiers-in-training were summoned to the base where they'd be living for the next few years of their lives, and Ozone had clutched the single bag carrying the few possessions he'd brought with him nervously between his talons as he flew through the splattering shower. He'd spotted a small group of dragons gathered on the edge of a cliff, shivering and wrapping their wings around themselves in a failed attempt to keep out the chilling wind.

There were three dragonets already there: two females and one male.

"Y-you too?" muttered a female dragonet with rosy scales as he landed tentatively near the edge of the cluster, digging his claws into the cracks in the rock to prevent the wind from snatching him back up into the air. "I'd say 'welcome to the freezing-our-scales-off club', but celebrating someone else's suffering doesn't feel right."

Her voice oozed bitterness, and Ozone had shifted instinctively away from her.

The movement brought him closer to the other female dragonet. She was curled up in a ball, red wings wrapped over orange scales, and her head was tucked so close to her chest so that only the tips of her red-and-white striped horns poked out.

"Keep standing right there," a muffled voice said from within the tangle of limbs. "You're blocking the worst of the wind right now."

"S-sure," he said, teeth chattering. It had been closer to an order than a request, but he didn't mind the tone. At least one of them would be warm this way.

"Th-thanks," responded the orange dragonet, sounding a bit friendlier now.

"I'm Ozone," he offered, adjusting his grip on his bag as the fabric flapped in the wind, which threatened to whisk it away.

"My name's Sardonyx," she said, poking her head out to meet his gaze. Her eyes were a bright yellow, like sunflowers. Ozone's vision was blurred as a raindrop smacked him in the eye, but he still caught the flash of white teeth as she grinned at him. "But you can call me Sard. Everyone does."

"N-nice to meet you," he managed to say, still trembling from the cold.

"You too," Sard responded. "You make an excellent shield from the wind, so I'd consider myself very fortunate. Frankly, I don't see how you benefit from it, though."

Ozone laughed a little at that, though he would have found it funnier if he hadn't been so cold. His claws were starting to turn numb.

Sard looked pleased that she'd amused him, her ears flicking up. "Hey, since you laughed at my joke instead of only glaring at me like the other one, I guess we can switch places in a little while and I'll try to keep the wind off your back."

"Th-thanks," Ozone said, pleasantly surprised.

He glanced over his shoulder at the dragon she'd nodded to, and saw a big dragon with pale orange scales like a sunset. His brow was bunched in a scowl as he lowered his head to keep the wind from stinging his eyes.

"Th-that's Buzzard," Sard told Ozone, following his gaze. "I only met him earlier today, but he seems ornery. I'm not actually sure he can talk. All he did was glare."

"I can hear you, you know," the larger dragonet growled, glaring at the other two with dark amber eyes. A tendril of smoke snaked from his nostrils, but was dispersed by the gale. It blew into the amaranth dragonet's face, and she coughed before shooting a hostile look at the perpetrator.

"I guess he can talk," Sard amended.

"Of course I can," Buzzard snorted, flicking his wings to shake out the cold. They made a snapping sound as they rippled in the wind. "It's just too cold for conversation."

"I agree," muttered the pink dragonet.

"It's never too cold to talk!" Sard said passionately.

The other female dragonet only snorted in response.

Ozone smiled at that, and Sard glanced sideways at him, seeming pleased. "We can switch places now, if you want. You'll have to catch me if I blow away, though. You will, right? You won't let me be swept away forever?"

"I would," grumbled the other female SkyWing.

"I wasn't asking _you_ , Gale," Sard retorted. "I was asking _Ozone_."

The pinkish-red dragonet swept her pale yellow gaze towards Ozone. It lingered on him for a moment, taking in his slender build and the nervous wrinkle in the golden scales on his snout, before flickering balefully away. He tried not to let that upset him.

"I won't let the wind take you," he promised Sard.

"Good," she said, and unraveled herself from the ball she'd been tucked into. She circled around Ozone and unfurled her wings to block the wind. She was smaller than him and struggled not to be blown away, but as he coiled himself into a ball in the space she had yielded to him, she made a fierce face and held her ground.

She was right; it was just the tiniest bit warmer with someone blocking the wind. Slowly, Ozone stopped trembling so violently.

"Isn't someone supposed to be coming for us?" he asked worriedly. He'd been speaking to Sard, but the others heard the question and looked over at him. "Do you think we might be waiting in the wrong place?"

"Three moons, I hope not," Buzzard said vehemently.

Sard didn't say anything, but a similar look of dismay had appeared on her face.

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised," growled Gale.

"It could be a test," Sard ventured. "Of endurance or something."

"If it is a test, it's testing my patience," the amaranth dragonet grumbled.

Ozone found that amusing, but he doubted laughing at her words would earn him anything but disdain. Trying to ease the cold instead, he breathed a small puff of smoke onto his talons and rubbed them together. It helped, but not much.

The dragonets fell into silence, apart from the chattering of their teeth.

"I think someone's coming," Buzzard said suddenly.

The others all followed his gaze and spotted a dark red figure gliding seemingly effortlessly on the storm winds. She didn't seem to be another dragonet, who would most likely struggle to fly in this weather like all the others, though she didn't look much bigger than Buzzard, who Ozone assumed was seven, like himself.

"You there," she called, her voice sharp with commanding authority, as she came to a stop in front of the dragonets, parachuting her wings to land. "Why are you here?"

They were all silent.

Ozone and Sard exchanged equally uneasy glances. Was this not where they were supposed to be waiting? Had they messed up so soon after starting their training?

Gale was the one to cut the silence.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm here to become a soldier," she said, lifting her chin defiantly and staring down the full-grown dragon. "If this isn't the place for that, then point me in the right direction."

It was a bold statement—worse than bold, challenging—but the burgundy dragon didn't comment. Her eyes, pale yellow like the moons, shifted to the others. "And you?"

"I wouldn't put it that way," Ozone said, twisting the straps of his bag nervously between his claws, "but I'm here for the same reason."

"Me too," said Sard.

Buzzard nodded in agreement.

"Good," said the adult dragon. "You've all passed my first test."

Buzzard looked offended to have been tricked, while Gale's eyes were unreadable, and Sard only grinned. Ozone himself let out a small sigh of relief.

"I am Claret, your new commander," the dark red dragon told them, her pale eyes softening a little. "I had to make sure you were really the students I was expecting. Not just any dragon can know the location of our secret base. However, you have passed my test and will now be permitted entry. But first, one more thing. Names?"

"Sardonyx," said Sard.

"Ozone," Ozone offered.

"Buzzard," the pale orange dragonet said shortly.

"Gale," the last dragonet finished.

"Good," Claret said again, looking pleased. "Ridge, the last trainee, is already at the base. Since his mother is a member of the army, he's been living here for a few days already. He was raised in a military family, so if you have any questions about your new lifestyle, I suggest you go to him. Now, I'm sure you'd like to get out of this weather into the shelter of our cave. Come with me."

She turned and launched herself back into the gusting wind, catching it beneath her wings as if it were no stronger than a gentle breeze. As he unraveled himself from the ball he'd curled into, Ozone hoped she knew that the dragonets couldn't fly through storms so easily. It would probably be a skill they acquired during their training, but for now it was certainly a daunting task.

Sard seemed to be thinking the same thing, judging by the face she made at him. She took a deep breath, leapt into the air after Claret, and flailed disgracefully in the air for a moment before she managed to straighten out. Ozone, who was struggling to remain airborne beside her, gave her a sympathetic look.

"We'll have to suffer through training together," joked Sard, wobbling in the air as the wind buffeted her wings. "I guess that makes us friends."

Despite his difficulty flying, Ozone had laughed. "Yeah, I guess it does."

Now, as they left the soldiers' base side-by-side in the early morning, they didn't say anything to each other. Ozone didn't know what to say even if he'd wanted to speak. Though he and Sard hung out together all time, he had to admit that he didn't really know her as well as he always tried to pretend he did. He had no idea how to bridge the gap between them when she was having a bout of moodiness.

He'd met Jackal a little less than two weeks ago, and known Cornice only marginally longer, yet he already felt like he had a deeper connection with each of them than with Sard, whom he'd been friends with for months.

 _Why can't I get close to dragons in my own tribe?_ he wondered ruefully.

"The sunrise is pretty," he commented, as the first light of dawn began to spill out over the horizon. Sard only gave a noncommittal murmur in response. Nature probably didn't cross her mind enough for her to consider it beautiful.

After that, Ozone gave up. He figured that she didn't feel like talking.

They flew for about half an hour in silence before they arrived at the bend in the river where Ozone had arranged to meet with his friends. Even from far away, it didn't take long for Ozone to spot the trio of figures, recognizing Jackal's dusty brown scales alongside Kulta's glittering gold and Tumbleweed's darker tawny.

He didn't think his voice would carry, so he waved to them with one wing instead. Tumbleweed noticed him first and nudged the others. All three then looked toward the pair of SkyWings, smiling in welcome, as Ozone and Sard approached.

"Hi, guys," Ozone said, pleased by their enthusiasm.

Jackal turned to Sard, looking unsurprised by her presence even though Ozone had forgotten to mention that she was coming.

"I'm Jackal," he said pleasantly. "You must be one of Ozone's fellow soldiers-in-training. I remember seeing you at our tribes' meeting a couple weeks ago, but you'll have to forgive me for not being able to recall your name."

"It's Sardonyx," she said. Ozone waited for her to add, _But you can call me Sard,_ but she didn't, watching the SandWings with narrowed eyes.

"My name is Tumbleweed," the tawny dragon chimed in.

"Kulta," the third SandWing finished, nodding in greeting. It was the friendliest gesture Ozone had ever seen from her, but Sard didn't seem impressed.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Ozone glanced to Jackal for help.

"Well, let's not just stand here and watch the sunrise," the SandWing said easily, sweeping his wings behind his friends to move them along. "We want to make the most of the day, don't we? Excellent. Let's not waste any more time!"

Kulta gave him an irritated look, but didn't argue. She opened her pale wings and took flight. The others lifted off after her, Tumbleweed nudging Ozone excitedly.

"We're off!" she said cheerfully.

They flew in silence for several minutes, which ticked slowly and awkwardly by.

"So, what are we planning on doing today?" Ozone asked the group of soldiers at large, hoping to start up a conversation.

"Anything we want," Jackal said, grinning at the SkyWing. "Specifically, there are a bunch of cool shops I know of. I also have a couple of friends to introduce you to."

"By friends, he means the dragons who can actually stand him," Kulta said dryly.

Tumbleweed burst out laughing.

Sard wrinkled her snout, looking like she couldn't decide what to think.

Jackal laughed too, angling his wings to bump into Kulta. She glided away from him, making a face. Ozone smiled at the way the pair interacted; he'd managed to guess by now that they were only teasing each other.

The trio of SandWings continued bantering as they traveled, allowing Ozone to fall into a comfortable silence. Sard's frown even softened a little as she listened to them exchange jokes and playful insults.

Eventually, Ozone caught sight of a group of buildings in a valley at the very edge of his range of vision. "Is that it?" he asked Jackal, pointing with one claw.

The SandWing squinted, then beamed. "That's it!"

"It looks exciting," Sard remarked, her teeth flashing in the mid-morning sunlight as she grinned. It seemed she was finally in a good mood again.

Kulta glanced sideways at her and seemed to take note of this as well.

"It's an interesting place," the gold dragon said lightly.

"Bet you can't wait to check out all the shops," Ozone teased Sard, hoping to get back on her good side. "You like shopping, right? I'm guessing you'll disappear as soon as we touch the ground, and I'll probably never see you again."

She barked a surprised laugh. "I don't like shopping _that_ much."

"Oh." Ozone felt a little embarrassed, but he shoved the feeling away. At least his friend was talking to him again; that seemed like a good omen for the day ahead.

"Don't get separated when we land," warned Jackal, swooping over to fly next to the two SkyWings. "It's very busy, so you'll have to be careful not to get swept away by the crowd. Dragons tend to shove their way by. Very inconsiderately."

Sard rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Duly noted."

But even the thought of being in a crowd couldn't dampen Ozone's enthusiasm. The day had gotten off to a rocky start, but he was here with all his friends—who actually seemed to be getting along despite his initial reservations—and the weather was warm and sunny. The air had a faint smoky smell, like firewood.

It wasn't much longer before they reached the stone archway which marked the entrance to the town and angled their wings to land. The area was busy with dragons of various tribes coming and going, landing and taking off. Ozone had to duck his head to avoid being smacked in the face by an emerald-green wing.

When he looked up, he realized that his friends had disappeared from sight. To him, the trio of SandWings had always stood out thanks to their greater height and pale scales, but they blended right into this crowd of multi-colored dragons.

Ozone felt his heartbeat speed up in alarm as he realized that he was being swept along by the crowd and had no idea where the others had gone, and it was much too loud to be heard if he called out for them. He scanned the sea of dragons again, hoping to spot someone he recognized, but couldn't find even Sard's bright orange scales.

Suddenly, he felt a gust of warm air against his scales. "Found you."

He turned, and was relieved to see Kulta standing beside him.

"It's very busy," the SandWing said, her wings twitching against her sides as if she subconsciously wanted to fly away. "But you'll adjust to it soon enough. Just stay close to me and you won't get lost, don't worry."

He nodded gratefully and followed as she turned and plowed through the crowd, most of the other dragons clearing out of her way as she walked. Soon, Ozone spotted Tumbleweed, her black eyes scanning the crowd, and waved. She saw him, grinned, and waved back before turning to Jackal and Sard and letting them know.

"Thought we'd lost you," Jackal said, grinning, once they'd gathered again.

Kulta shook herself, as if ridding her scales of some contamination. "You did lose him. But I brought him back instead of letting him wander off like a lost puppy."

"Aww, thanks," Jackal responded, turning his playful smile to her next. "I don't know what I would do without my little puppy Ozone."

Ozone wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Tumbleweed noticed his expression and tugged on one of Jackal's wings. "You're freaking him out," she said. "Let's just go into the town already!"

"Yes, let's," agreed Kulta.

Sard didn't say anything, but her eyes were bright with excitement as she took in the scene around them. She didn't seem to mind the crowd at all—but then again, she wasn't even remotely timid like Ozone was. She looked positively delighted by the chaos all around, probably because it was so different from anything she'd ever seen before. The Sky Kingdom was made of small villages scattered throughout the mountain range; there was nothing as grand as this bustling center of activity.

There were various stores standing on either side of the main street, all decorated in bright colors and eye-catching large bubble letters.

"Oh look, it's a fortune-teller's tent!" Tumbleweed exclaimed, flapping her wings excitedly and pointing ahead. The tent was made of violet fabric and was embroidered in intricate patterns with golden thread. "That wasn't here last time, was it?"

"I don't think so," Kulta said, in a more neutral tone than the tawny dragon's.

"We should go," Jackal said, nudging her and grinning as she frowned and moved out of his reach. "Don't you want to learn about our future together?"

The pale gold dragon grumbled about it, but reluctantly agreed.

Jackal wrapped his wing cheerfully around her shoulder, and the two SandWings disappeared into the tent, letting its door flap shut behind them. Murmuring voices could be heard through the embroidered purple-and-gold fabric, but Ozone couldn't make out what the dragon running the shop was saying.

"I don't want my fortune told," Sard told him, "but I'll go in with you if you want to find out what yours is." It was an oddly specific suggestion, but if his friend was more interested in his fortune than her own, he'd might as well try it.

"Sure, I'll go," he decided.

"Great," she said, with a mischievous grin.

"Are you going to get your fortune told?" Ozone asked Tumbleweed.

"Oh, no," she said, laughing. "I just wanted to get Jackal to do it with Kulta."

"Why?" He tilted his head to one side curiously.

"Because they're totally in love," she informed him. "Kulta might like to pretend she's completely out of Jackal's league, but it's obvious that she's secretly into him."

"Really?" he asked, surprised. He'd thought they were only joking around.

Sard nodded. "Yeah, even I could see that. You're really dense, Ozone!"

A moment later, before he could respond, Jackal and Kulta came out of the tent. Jackal said something to Kulta, laughing, and she rolled her eyes, pushing him away.

"See?" said Tumbleweed and Sard together.

"No," Ozone answered, because he still didn't.

"What did the fortune-teller say about you?" Tumbleweed asked their friends eagerly, as Jackal and Kulta rejoined the group. "Are you made for each other?"

"That's not how fortune-telling works," Kulta responded, flicking her ears. "If the prophet can really see the future, she'll tell you a little about what will likely happen to you, but nothing's set in stone. There's no such thing as destiny. And even if there were, I seriously doubt romantic relationships are involved in it."

"What a realist," Jackal remarked, looking amused.

"You mean pessimist," Tumbleweed said.

Kulta hissed at her. "I am _not_ a pessimist!"

"Right," the tawny dragon said, entertained. "And I'm not your best friend."

"You aren't," Kulta huffed. "Jack is."

Tumbleweed pretended to look wounded for a moment, but then straightened up, grinning. "Of course he is. But I knew you wouldn't admit it otherwise."

The pale gold dragon sighed. "You're a pain."

Jackal watched his friends without comment, looking hugely entertained.

"Come on, it's your turn now," said Sard, pushing Ozone towards the tent and snapping him out of watching the SandWings bicker. He obligingly walked the rest of the way and ducked into the small structure. Sard followed him in.

The tent smelled faintly of incense and was darker than outside, illuminated only by candlelight. It took Ozone's eyes took a moment to adjust to the lower lighting. Only after they had did he notice the NightWing sitting near the back of the tent. The silver scales under her wings glittered faintly, as did her dark eyes.

"Welcome," she said, in a quiet, melodic voice.

Ozone didn't know how to respond, so he only nodded in greeting. Sard peered curiously over his shoulder at the fortune-teller.

"I am Soothsayer," she said. "Gifted with the NightWing power of foresight. I do not speak in riddles like many of my fellow prophets, but I can provide you with a brief glimpse of your future, should you ask the right questions."

Ozone thought about it.

"Will I always be restless?" he asked, thinking of his lingering dissatisfaction with life as a soldier. He hoped it wouldn't last forever. He didn't know what he'd do if she told him that it would, but he felt like he had to know.

Soothsayer gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his as if she could see the answer written in them somewhere.

"Not always," she said at last. "But if you are hoping that your path straightens out in the near future, you will be disappointed. Satisfaction will not come to you on its own; you must go out and look for it."

Sard looked back and forth between Ozone and the NightWing, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. It was clear that she hadn't noticed Ozone's restlessness; it wasn't really something dragons could see from the outside. But he could never feel satisfied with the endless training drills and the confining tunnels of their base.

Ozone paused, thinking again, and silence stretched out between them.

"Will there be romance in his future?" Sard asked playfully.

Soothsayer tilted her head to one side, as if listening to something that Ozone and Sard couldn't hear. "Perhaps. But it's very complicated. In some ways, it isn't black and white. But in others, that's exactly what it is." She laughed a little at that, as if it were some kind of inside joke.

Sard frowned.

The NightWing's words didn't make much sense to Ozone, either.

"You may ask one more question," she told him. "Choose wisely."

"Okay," Ozone said, twisting the end of his tail thoughtfully between his claws. After a moment, he realized that he knew just what to ask. "Is there anything that you see that _you_ think I should know about?"

Soothsayer smiled enigmatically. "SkyWing, I believe you are the first dragon to ever ask me that question. You are wiser than most, to realize that a seer knows more about her trade than you do. I do in fact have some advice for you: There may come a time when you no longer trust your own mind or your own heart. But know that you can always trust your acts of kindness and the friendships they have brought you."

Ozone blinked, feeling uneasy. Considering her warning, he wasn't sure thanks were appropriate.

"I'll remember that," he said instead, nodding to her. He paid the fortune-teller by depositing coins in a jar which stood between them, and she nodded back.

Sard reached the door first and held open the flap for Ozone. Together, they went back outside into the sunlight. As they returned to the main street, where his friends were waiting for them, Ozone wondered how much truth the seer's words had held. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to believe them.

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 **AN: I decided to cut it off here for now, because the chapter was becoming overly long I didn't want to keep you waiting without any updates. Next time, Ozone's adventures in Possibility continue!**


	16. Chapter 15

**AN: Hey, everyone! I'm finally back with another chapter. After this, we're going to have just one more set in Possibility, and then we'll get to see what Cornice is up to again.**

 **There's also a new poll on my profile. Vote on your favorite** ** _Unexpected Places_** **characters! Not only am I really curious about who you like best, but I'll also try to incorporate the winners in a little more into future chapters.**

 **Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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"What did the fortune-teller say?" Tumbleweed asked, as soon as Ozone and Sard rejoined the trio of SandWings. Kulta and Jackal looked similarly curious.

"It was kind of vague," Ozone answered. He didn't want to offend them, but he felt strangely reluctant to share what he'd learned about his future with all of them. It seemed too private. He made a face, hoping to dissuade them with humor. "But she did say that my love life would be complicated."

Sard gave him a curious look, knowing that he was withholding information, but to his relief, she didn't call him out on it.

To his relief, Tumbleweed barked a laugh and didn't inquire any further.

"What about you?" Ozone asked Jackal and Kulta. "You never said."

"We got to ask three questions together," the pale gold SandWing responded. "I learned that apparently I'm going to make a fateful choice within the next few months and that Jack and I should learn to rely on each other."

"She said you should trust me more," Jackal corrected her. "I already know I can rely on you. And she told me that I'm going to be successful in an important endeavor very soon." His eyes shone with anticipation.

"So you each asked one question individually and one together?" Sard guessed.

"Yep," said Jackal cheerfully. "But the one was enough for me."

Ozone eyed him inquisitively. His SandWing friend was always energetic, but he seemed to be in a particularly good mood right now.

Then again, Ozone supposed he probably would be equally excited if he had been promised success in the immediate future.

He wondered if Jackal had some specific goal in mind.

"Let's go check out some of the other stores," Tumbleweed said impatiently. She seemed no longer interested in fortune-telling now that romantic prophecies between Jackal and Kulta had been ruled out. "I know we have a lot of time here, but there's also _so_ much to do! I just can't wait to do everything and see everything! Let's go, let's go!"

"Three moons, you're energetic," Sard observed, with some amusement.

"I know," Ozone agreed. "And I thought you were hyper!"

"Nah," she said, returning his playful grin. "I just can't resist making a little bit of mischief now and then. And Buzzard and Gale make it _so_ tempting."

Ozone laughed at that, taking the time to appreciate the moment. It felt good to simply spend time with friends and to not have to worry about training or accidentally angering his fellow soldiers-in-training for once.

They continued down the main street, stopping briefly at various booths to check out samples of exotic fruit sold by a RainWing, scraps of colorful fabric being displayed by a SandWing, and sparkling geodes collected by a SkyWing. They didn't buy anything right away, not wanting to be weighed down throughout the day by their purchases, but Jackal promised they could stop by again on their way out for a rock studded with yellow crystal that Ozone particularly liked.

The next shop was run by a dragon with unusual tan scales. He had a flat snout, straight gold horns, and ridged scales along his muscular arms. When Ozone and his friends came into his store, he was carefully sculpting something on a potter's wheel, which he was gazing intently at with a pair of dark eyes.

The shopkeeper straightened up, nodding to them in a friendly way. "Welcome."

"He's a _hybrid_ ," Sard hissed softly into Ozone's ear, seeming shocked.

"That's right," the dragon in question said pleasantly, meeting her startled gaze; clearly, she hadn't meant for him to overhear. "My mother is a SandWing and my father is a MudWing. Such intertribal relationships aren't uncommon here in Possibility."

Ozone was fascinated.

"Um," he began and then stopped, uncertain if the shopkeeper would be offended by questions about his unusual parentage.

"You look curious, young dragon," the shopkeeper said, looking amused. "First of all, my name is Loess. Now, you may ask me some questions if you want. Can't promise I'll answer all of them, though. Some things are personal."

Ozone hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to be rude.

"What was it like growing up in Possibility?" he asked at last, deciding that was a safe question to ask. He did want to know what it was like having been born into such a busy city filled with so many kinds of dragons.

His friends, looking disinterested in his interview, wandered deeper into the store as he spoke to look at the various clay figures displayed along the walls.

Loess let out a surprised-sounding guffaw. "That's not usually the first question I get. I appreciate your tactfulness, young one."

"Ozone," the SkyWing offered.

"Well, Ozone, it's the only life I know," the potter said straightforwardly.

He couldn't help but feel a little surprised. He'd never thought of it that way, and it must have showed on his face.

"Don't you suppose I could ask you the opposite—what it's like to grow up only among dragons from your own tribe?" Loess pointed out. He gave another significant pause, his eyes glinting knowingly—or was it wearily?—before continuing. "Even here, there are always a few narrow-minded dragons who speak only with those that look like them and come from similar backgrounds. But more often, dragons are better than that. We have a well-mixed culture here in Possibility."

For a moment, both dragons were silent. Ozone nodded thoughtfully.

"Do you have any siblings?" he asked, once it became clear that Loess was waiting for another question. Would other hybrids inherit the same traits from each parent? Or would another dragon born to a SandWing and a MudWing be built more narrowly, perhaps with a barbed tail and darker scales?

"No," Loess responded, as soon as the last word had left Ozone's mouth. "I can see that surprises you; you're probably thinking that I'm half MudWing, and everyone knows that MudWings are supposed to have sibs. But SandWings hatch one at a time, and since my mother's a SandWing, there was only me."

He shrugged, as if it didn't bother him, but Ozone wondered.

"Don't you get lonely?" he asked.

"Don't you?" the hybrid challenged him. "Why should I be any lonelier than any other dragon without siblings? Because I'm half MudWing? Because there's no one else who looks like me? It's like I told you before: I've never known anything else."

Ozone was silent for a moment.

"I didn't mean to stereotype," he said quietly, feeling guilty for jumping to the same conclusions that everyone else did, about a dragon he'd met barely three minutes ago. He didn't want to come across as if he presumed to know more about Loess's life than the potter himself did. "And yes, I do sometimes."

Loess's expression softened. "Hmph. I suppose you're all right, Ozone."

"Thank you," the SkyWing said.

The shopkeeper laughed. "Most wouldn't take that as a compliment."

"You used it as one," Ozone pointed out.

"That's true," Loess admitted, grinning.

Ozone dipped his head to the potter in polite farewell. "Thank you for answering my questions. I'd better go catch up with my friends now, so they don't end up deciding I'm taking too long and leave without me."

"Take care," Loess responded, returning to the mound of clay he'd been sculpting when Ozone and his friends came in.

Jackal and Tumbleweed were standing together near the very back of the shop, admiring some ceramic figurines while Kulta lingered a few rows behind, talking to Sard in a quiet murmur that Ozone couldn't quite make out. The small orange dragon wore an unusual expression on her face, looking torn between wariness and intrigue.

Ozone tried to look busy, not wanting to interrupt any potential friendship that might be blossoming between Sard and Kulta. Sard had been atypically reserved all morning, which he attributed to her general distrust toward other tribes.

 _Maybe it'll work out,_ he thought hopefully. _Maybe she just needed a little push._

As subtly as he could, he shifted closer so he might be able to hear what they were saying and interfere if Sard needed to be fished out of an awkward situation.

"Have you ever been to the city before?" Kulta was asking.

Sard shook her head. "Not Possibility. Not any city, actually. Only a talonful of small villages in the mountains. SkyWings are kind of independent."

"Proud?" Kulta guessed.

"That too," admitted the orange dragon.

"Hmm," said Kulta, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully.

Sard turned to browse one of the other aisles, assuming the nonverbal response signaled the end of the conversation, but the SandWing reached out one pale gold talon to stop her. "Do you live very deep in the mountains?"

Sard hesitated, as if puzzled by the questioning. "Not _very_."

"I only asked because I think it would be strange for me, being in such a confined space," Kulta said, rolling her shoulders as if the mere thought made her restless.

"It's not _confined_ ," Sard said hotly. "It's sheltered."

The pale gold dragon gave a dry laugh. "No need to get aggressive, SkyWing."

With effort, Sard forced her tense muscles to relax. "Sorry. I'm just—protective, I guess, of my homeland."

"That's understandable," Kulta said, her voice smooth as varnished stone. "Tell me a little more about your kingdom, the way you see it. Maybe then I'll be able to see it that way too. Because right now, all I see is a very crowded, wet landscape."

"Wet?" Sard asked, looking surprised.

"I live in the desert," Kulta reminded her. "Everywhere else is wet to me."

To Ozone's surprise, Sard laughed at that. Perhaps she found Kulta's aloofness as alluring, in some odd way, as Ozone did Jackal's open friendliness.

"All right," she said. "We are somewhat close to a lake. I guess I'll accept 'wet'."

Ozone decided not to eavesdrop anymore. It seemed Kulta's reserved nature was enough to balance Sard's sparks of temper enough to prevent a fight from breaking out. Both dragons were opinionated, but Kulta wasn't easy to provoke.

He couldn't help wondering why the SandWing had developed a sudden interest in the mountains. She hadn't struck him as someone keen on small talk. When Ozone had first met her, she'd seemed content to observe his interactions with the other two without saying very much. Could it be she was shy, like Ozone himself?

Wherever Kulta's abrupt curiosity had come from, Ozone supposed he should be glad she had been willing to talk to Sard. As much as he cared about his fellow soldier-in-training, she was very touchy and could become sullen when she felt left out.

He walked over to Tumbleweed and Jackal, who were still lingering near the back of the store. The tawny dragon brightened when she saw him.

"Oh look, Jack," she said, tugging on her friend's wing. "Moony Eyes over here seems to have finished talking to the shopkeeper about his fascinating nonsense."

"Moony Eyes?" Ozone asked mildly, deciding not to challenge the use of the word 'nonsense', since Tumbleweed didn't seem to mean it as an insult.

"Your eyes totally lit up when he said you could ask questions," she responded, by way of explanation. "I've never seen you be that enthusiastic about anything. In fact, I didn't know you were actually capable of getting excited at all. I'm debating getting a little offended that you apparently don't find _me_ that interesting. I feel kinda bad for Sardonyx now. Since she's so full of energy and you just… aren't."

Ozone shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious.

"Anyway," Jackal intervened. "If you're done speaking with the shopkeeper, we can all move along, right? I don't want to rush all of you, but I want to see if we can get to Barracuda's shop before she leaves on her lunch break."

The name sounded familiar; Jackal must have mentioned her before.

"Okay," Ozone agreed.

They went down the aisle where Kulta and Sard were still talking to collect them before they left the shop. Ozone and Loess exchanged nods of farewell.

On their way to the SeaWing's shop, they passed a large building with a domed roof. The architecture looked elegantly old-fashioned, and Ozone couldn't resist pausing to give it a curious look. Dragons walked in and out of a door positioned at the top of a marble staircase, admiring the stone entranceway as they passed by. Others reclined in a garden located behind the building; most were deeply immersed in scrolls, but some appeared to simply be enjoying the pleasant weather.

"What's that building?" he asked his friends.

To his surprise, it was Kulta who answered. "It's a library. There are all sorts of fascinating scrolls inside." Her eyes shone with anticipation.

"Let me guess," said Tumbleweed. "You want to go inside?"

"Just for a little while," the other SandWing said, already spreading her wings to fly to the top of the steps. "You can go on without me. I'll catch up with you later."

"Okay," said Jackal, watching her go with an amused expression. "Bye, I guess."

"I wouldn't have guessed that she's a scrollworm," Sard commented.

Ozone shrugged. To him, it didn't seem strange. He wasn't the type to sort other dragons into categories in his mind, especially dragons he was still getting to know. He had no idea why Sard, and most others, would find doing that helpful. More often than not, categorizing dragons led to incorrect assumptions, and Ozone was already socially inept enough without accidentally jumping to the wrong conclusions.

He'd kept standing there as he thought, not noticing that his friends were starting to move along again until Tumbleweed called, "C'mon Ozone!"

He hurried to catch up.

It wasn't much longer before they reached the shop they were looking for, which seemed to be displaying a collection of odd-looking metal jewelry.

Jackal's friend was a muscular dragon with dusk blue scales and lighter blue eyes, one of which was covered in a black eye patch. When she caught sight of the SandWing, she gave him a toothy smile. Her two longest fangs stuck out slightly on either side of her jaws; one was blunted at the tip, giving her a tough-looking appearance.

"Jackal, my friend," she said, punching him on the shoulder in a way that looked rough but playful. "It's good to see you. How have you been lately?"

"Good," he responded, nudging her with his wing in return. "I've brought a few of my friends here to meet you. You already know Tumbleweed, this is Ozone, and that's Sardonyx. Everyone, this is Barracuda."

Tumbleweed made a peace sign with her talons, while Sard greeted the SeaWing with a polite nod, and Ozone managed a shy smile.

"Nice to meet you lot," Barracuda said to the SkyWings, giving a jerk of her head, before turning back to Jackal. "You lose Kulta somewhere along the way, or what?"

"She heard the library calling her and couldn't resist," he answered.

"Bah," said the SeaWing, with a dismissive flick of her tail. "I guess we don't need her at the moment. Listen, I've already told everyone where we're meeting, and I found a few more dragons who were interested. We should have an even bigger turnout than last time. Everything's finally starting to look promising."

"That's not for a couple more days," Jackal said, with a glance at Ozone and Sard. "Let's not talk about this right now, okay?"

Barracuda tilted her head to one side. "But I thought you said—"

"I changed my mind," Jackal interrupted sharply, before she could finish. "We're just going to hang out today, if that's all right with you."

Ozone felt almost desperately curious to know what they were talking about, but looked away from the pair as Tumbleweed nudged his side with her elbow. She'd been browsing Barracuda's wares as the SeaWing talked with Jackal and was now trying on a weirdly clunky-looking ring. "Check this out."

She twisted it, and a pair of wicked-looking spikes suddenly popped out from the bottom. Tumbleweed grinned. "Bam! Now I have IceWing claws!"

Ozone looked up at the rest of the jewelry. "Are these all weapons in disguise?"

"Yeah," Tumbleweed said. "That's why they look so ugly."

"Excuse me," said Barracuda suddenly, shoving her snout in Tumbleweed's face. "First of all, they're not weapons. They are _innovative jewelry_. Secondly, they are most definitely _not_ ugly. Third, you're paying for that."

"Aww," said Tumbleweed. "I was hoping it could be a free sample."

Barracuda scoffed and held out her talons. Tumbleweed reluctantly took the ring off her talon and dropped it into the SeaWing's palm.

Jackal stepped up between Ozone and Sard, wrapping his wings around their shoulders. "I bet you were wondering what my conversation with Barracuda was about. You see, I'm trying to start this little group in Possibility. I told her I was bringing you here because I thought you might be interested in joining it. But I've changed my mind over the course of the day. You would probably find it extremely boring."

"What kind of group?" the SkyWings asked in unison. Sard's tone sounded rather suspicious, while Ozone was just curious.

"I'll tell you about it later," Jackal said, folding his wings again with a mysterious smile. "Right now, we have a lot more to do and not a lot of time to waste. I'm going to stay here and talk to the lovely Barracuda for a few more moments, but the two of you and Tumbleweed can go ahead and explore."

"Stop, you're making me blush," the blue dragon said sarcastically.

Jackal ignored her.

"All right," said Sard, looking reluctant. "C'mon, Ozone."

Once the SkyWings and Tumbleweed had left Barracuda's shop out of sight, Sard glanced tentatively at the SandWing before leaning in to whisper in Ozone's ear. "Is it just me, or did that dragon seem highly suspicious?"

Ozone shifted his talons uncomfortably. "She kind of did." He hated saying bad things about any dragon, but this SeaWing made him nervous. What use was there for selling hidden weapons when the war had been over for fourteen years? That seemed awfully like facilitating mugging and other acts of violence to Ozone.

"Excuse me," said a tall SandWing, walking up to them. "Did the three of you just leave Barracuda's shop just now?" His tone sounded relatively polite, but it had an edge to it that warned the dragonets not to mess with him. Around his neck hung a golden medallion stamped with a symbol that Ozone didn't recognize.

Tumbleweed stepped in front of the SkyWings. "That's right, Officer."

Sard and Ozone exchanged alarmed glances behind their friend's back. What did the police want with them?

"If you bought anything there, I'd like you to please hand it over," said the police officer. "It needs to be inspected. We've received intel suggesting that she's been selling illegal weapons there alongside her jewelry collection."

"We didn't buy anything." Tumbleweed didn't seem even remotely fazed. "And if you don't mind my being bold, I think you're mistaken, sir. I've heard rumors like that, selling weapons and such, but not about Barracuda's shop. That's Blenny you've heard about. They're both SeaWings, both jewelry sellers—it's easy to get them confused."

"Is that so?" the police officer said.

Tumbleweed nodded. "Her shop is down a few streets, I believe."

"Hmm," the older SandWing said, his tail flicking thoughtfully from side to side. "I suppose I'll have to double check back at headquarters." He didn't seem convinced, but he at least seemed to be giving Tumbleweed's accusation some thought. "Stay out of trouble in the meantime, you hear me?"

Tumbleweed gave a toothy smile. "Of course!"

The other SandWing gave the tawny dragonet a long look before he turned away, heading back the way he'd come. She watched him go with an unreadable look in her black eyes. As soon as the police officer disappeared from sight, her cheerful expression dropped. "We have to let Barracuda know she's being investigated."

Neither SkyWing responded. Ozone glanced at Sard, who looked uneasy.

"Why did you do that?" he asked Tumbleweed.

"What do you mean?" She tilted her head to one side.

"You lied to the officer," he said. "You just showed me that Barracuda's jewelry turns into weapons. And then you framed someone else instead."

She waved him away. "They'll figure out quickly enough that Blenny is innocent. I just wanted to buy Barracuda some time to switch her weapons out for normal jewelry. Don't give me that look. I've got her back. That's what you do for your friends, isn't it?" Tumbleweed looked and sounded completely serious.

Ozone stared at her for a moment, realizing with a jolt that this was the first time he'd seen her without a playful grin on her face or a glint of mischief in her eyes. If this was what her serious side looked like, he didn't like it at all.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could decide what, Sard stomped down hard on his tail. He glanced at her questioningly, and she shook her head. It was clear she didn't feel comfortable picking a fight with Tumbleweed, which made Ozone feel even more unsettled. Sard would normally fight anyone.

He looked up at the tawny dragonet again, but she'd already begun pushing her way back through the crowd to Barracuda's shop. There was no arguing with her.

He sighed. "I guess we'd better follow her."

He just hoped they wouldn't regret it later.


	17. Chapter 16

**AN: Hello, everyone! Today, we're finishing up Ozone's trip to Possibility in what I'm pretty sure is the longest chapter yet! If you haven't voted in my poll yet, please do. It's anonymous, and I'd really like to hear some feedback from you! As always, thanks for reading and enjoy. :)**

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When they got back, Jackal and Barracuda glanced over at them and immediately stopped speaking. That only made Ozone more curious about what they'd been talking about. Tumbleweed, however, took no notice of their secrecy, immediately bursting into her explanation about the police officer who'd wanted to inspect the SeaWing's shop.

To Ozone's surprise, Barracuda didn't immediately jump up and start swapping things out from her shelves. She only yawned, seeming relatively unconcerned. "They wouldn't fine me or put me in jail for a first offense. They'd probably let me go with just a warning, and that's only assuming they actually realize that my jewelry is… ahem, innovatively designed. It sounds like they think I'm selling weapons separately."

 _You shouldn't be selling weapons at all,_ Ozone thought, but didn't say so aloud.

One glance at Sard's expression told him she was thinking the same thing. It also told him that she probably didn't want anything more to do with Possibility or any of the SandWing dragonets.

 _So much for her getting along with them,_ Ozone sighed inwardly.

"I'm glad you're looking out for me," Barracuda finished, flicking Tumbleweed with her tail in what seemed to be an affectionate gesture. "But I ain't gonna get all worried about the cops just yet. Trust me, I've been smuggling stuff practically since the day I hatched. I know what I'm doing."

Needless to say, Ozone didn't find that reassuring at all.

No one else commented on the SeaWing's words.

Ozone glanced worriedly at Jackal, who gave him a half-smile and shrugged. The dust-colored SandWing was searching Ozone and Sard's faces with his black gaze, as if trying to figure out whether they were going to tell anyone about the illegal merchandise. Ozone was still trying to decide whether he should.

Thankfully, before the silence between them could become too awkward, it was broken by Kulta, who had reappeared from the crowd with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. It didn't look very heavy, and presumably contained scrolls.

"What happened to not buying anything until we're ready to leave?" Jackal asked.

"These won't slow me down," she said dismissively, instead of answering. "And I technically didn't buy these. I'm borrowing them. So, loophole."

Jackal rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself.

Barracuda had been leaning against the counter of her shop but straightened up to greet the gold dragon. Kulta leaned away from the SeaWing's friendly punch before it could make contact, so Barracuda grinned and tugged on her bag instead, making the SandWing stumble. Kulta narrowed her eyes as she regained her footing and flicked her black tongue ominously, like a snake.

"Alright," said Jackal. "That's enough! We don't want another full-on brawl."

"That was Tumbleweed's doing," Kulta sniffed, but obligingly backed off, curling her barb away. "In case you've forgotten, I'm above such lowly squabbling."

"Ouch," said Tumbleweed, grinning.

"It's true, though," said Barracuda, with a smug smile. "I pummeled you."

"I _let_ you pummel me," responded the tawny SandWing.

The blue dragon scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that."

"Oh, I definitely will."

Ozone glanced at Tumbleweed apprehensively. She seemed to have returned to her normal cheery self. Perhaps he'd been overthinking her reaction to the police officer they'd encountered, especially if she'd been confident that the shopkeeper she'd framed would be proven innocent quickly enough. Still, he couldn't deny that the dark streak he'd seen just a few moments ago unsettled him.

Judging by the wary look on Sard's face, she felt the same way. But his SkyWing friend had always been a little prejudiced. Ozone wasn't totally confident he could rely on her reactions to accurately decide whether or not he should be worried.

 _Tumbleweed only did it to protect Barracuda,_ he reminded himself, trying to shake his unease. _I don't think she seriously meant to harm the other SeaWing jeweler._ But was there a point where loyalty to one's friends stopped being a good thing?

What if Barracuda did something else illegal, something worse, because she'd gotten away with selling weapons? What if the police officers _did_ think they'd gotten the SeaWings mixed up, and Blenny's sales were negatively affected by the investigation?

Ozone didn't have all the answers.

 _Just because Barracuda broke the law doesn't necessarily make her a horrible dragon,_ he thought, trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. _Selling weapons doesn't mean that someday she'll steal or commit murder. Maybe they're for self-defense._

He had to admit, though, that the spiked ring Tumbleweed had showed him looked a little too vicious to be for something as well-intentioned as self-defense.

"Now that Kulta's here, I can take my lunch break," Barracuda said, clapping her webbed talons together decisively. "There's a great place to eat one block over from my shop. Even if we aren't planning to have an official meeting today, we can still hang out with everyone who was gonna gather."

"That's fine by me," said Jackal, who no longer seemed impatient with Barracuda. Ozone glanced back and forth between the two dragons, wondering if they'd sorted out something while he, Sard, and Tumbleweed had been gone.

Kulta raised one eyebrow, as if surprised by the apparent rescheduling of their meeting, but didn't voice her thoughts aloud. She only flashed a questioning glance at Barracuda, who in turn glanced at Jackal, who gave a miniscule shrug and an apologetic smile. It seemed that the SandWings knew Barracuda well enough for the three to have a silent conversation made up only of facial expressions and small gestures.

Ozone had never been great at interpreting body language. Part of it was that he was a social failure, but he also realized now that he'd never had a friend he understood that deeply. There was always some level of disconnect between him and other dragons, even the dragons he cared about most.

He glanced at Sard, whose brow was furrowed. She'd been able to warn him not to challenge Tumbleweed earlier, but even then, her reasons hadn't been totally clear to him. Now he couldn't tell what she was thinking at all.

It was as if there was a wall between a dragon's actions and her thoughts. When other dragons got to know each other well, that barrier started to become transparent, but to Ozone's eyes, it unfailingly remained opaque. He only saw the emotions other dragons were clearly putting on display for him to see.

As Ozone had stared absently into space, Barracuda was locking up her shop. Now she whisked past him, making the SkyWing blink out of his reverie. She led the group down the street, chatting with Tumbleweed as she walked.

"Ozone," Sard hissed into his ear. "I don't know if you know these other dragons we're meeting with, but I swear to the three moons, they'd better not be criminals."

"I don't know them," he said, trying not to feel hurt by her stinging tone. "And I didn't realize before today that either Barracuda or Tumbleweed had ever done anything illegal. I'm just as shocked as you are."

"I wasn't shocked," his friend growled. "I knew not to trust them from the start."

"But did you even have a reason to be suspicious of them?" he retorted, under his breath. "Or was it just because they're from a different tribe than us? Tell me, Sard, are _suspicious_ and _SandWing_ synonymous to you?" Ozone didn't realize how angry he was about her constant prejudice towards other tribes until the words left his tongue, their tone sharpened almost unrecognizably by bitterness.

Sard looked stunned. He'd never spoken to her like that before.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Ozone," she hissed.

"I'm tired of you acting so cold towards my friends," he said, trying to sound firm, when in reality part of him wanted to take back what he'd said.

"So you're siding with them," she growled quietly, her tail beginning to lash from side to side. "They're your _friends_ now. I thought _I_ was your friend."

"I can be friends with more than one dragon," he pointed out calmly.

He didn't mean for it to sound sarcastic, but judging by the sudden flare of anger in Sard's yellow eyes, that was probably how she'd taken it. "Fine," she seethed, smoke beginning to pour from her nostrils. "I don't care if you're friends with them. But if you try to defend their smuggling and lying, then you're as bad as they are!"

With that, she stomped away from him, walking alongside Kulta instead.

Ozone watched her go somewhat regretfully. He hoped she'd get over her anger quickly instead of turning it into a grudge. He didn't want their relationship to fester the way Sard and Gale's had, making every conversation they had dissolve into a fight.

 _I'll apologize later,_ he thought, even though he'd meant everything he'd said, just not as harshly as it had come out sounding. He hoped that his words would at least have some positive impact on his friend once her anger petered out and she really stopped to think about what he'd said. If she ever stopped to think about it.

He was brought back to the present by someone calling his name. He looked up, expecting it to be one of his friends, but was surprised to realize that it was a MudWing running over to him. It took Ozone a moment to recognize Puddle, the dragon who delivered his and Jackal's letters to each other.

He stopped to talk to her for a minute, giving what he hoped was a friendly smile instead of something more akin to a grimace.

"Ozone," she said, with a jovial grin. "What are you doing here in Possibility?"

"I came with Jackal and his friends," he answered, glancing at the other soldiers as they continued walking through the busy crowd. They didn't seem to notice that he'd lagged behind, but he wasn't too worried about it; they weren't going far, and he could probably catch up to them quickly enough after this conversation. "We're just looking around and visiting all the shops. It's been a lot of fun so far."

"I'm glad to hear that." Her expression became serious. "You've picked a good time to visit. There's been some trouble stirring around here recently, and it seems to be escalating pretty quickly. If you'd come any later, you might have gotten caught up in something serious. I'm hoping it'll pass over, but… it never hurts to be careful."

"What kind of trouble?" Ozone asked uneasily.

"There have been murmurs of insurrection," the MudWing answered. "Dragons who are dissatisfied with living in tribes and answering to a queen. They call themselves the Tribeless." She paused, looking around to make sure no one else was listening too closely to her words. "How much do you know about the SandWing called Famine?"

"The one who started the Great Pyrrhian War all those years ago," Ozone said.

"Right," Puddle confirmed, nodding. "Only for some dragons, it wasn't 'all those years ago'. You hatched after the fighting ceased, but there are many dragons still alive who knew him… and some who still think he should've ruled the world."

"But he's gone now, isn't he?" He tried to remember what he'd learned about the sinister SandWing from Spark's lecture a few weeks ago. The old SkyWing hadn't ever actually told them what had happened to Famine, had he? If he remembered correctly, Gale and Buzzard had been very angry about that.

"I certainly hope so," Puddle responded. "The ruling queens announced that he'd been killed in the final struggle, but some retained their doubts for years after the war had ended. Rumors circled that he'd escaped, or that his ghost lingered on. Most of those beliefs have been disproven, but one remains popular: that he and Rain Shadow, the SandWing queen at the time, had a secret dragonet."

Ozone digested this information. "But would that really make a difference?"

"For some dragons, it makes all the difference," the MudWing said, her dark eyes serious. "Especially to the rebels. Rumor has it that they're looking for a descendant of Famine's to lead them… and even darker rumors say they've found one."

Ozone shivered as a chill ran down his spine. He knew that most rumors should be taken with a grain of salt, but there was always a chance, however small, that this one was true. Rain Shadow hadn't stopped Famine from conquering the other tribes using her army, even though she'd had the authority to do so. She must have approved of his philosophy and might have even helped him take over half the continent. From there, it wasn't too far of a logical jump to guess that the two might have been romantically involved. And if that were the case, they may very well have had dragonets together.

The information Puddle had given him was concerning, to say the least.

"Hey, I'm not trying to scare you," the mail-dragon said, touching his wing lightly with hers. "I'm just telling you to be careful, okay?"

"Of course," said Ozone, blinking reassuringly at her. "I'm always careful."

"Good," Puddle responded, with a relieved-looking smile. "I won't keep you from your friends any longer. But you tell Jackal to look after himself too, you hear? That dragonet doesn't have enough sense in his head sometimes."

"I'll let him know," he promised.

"And if you encounter the Tribeless," she warned, "stay far away from them."

"I will," Ozone responded, nodding in thanks and farewell.

If Famine and Rain Shadow had any dragonets, he mused as he walked off in the direction his friends had gone, they would have to be at least thirteen years old. The war had ended fourteen years ago, and the egg could technically have been laid as late as just before Famine died. As for a possible beginning of that time frame… the war had started twenty-seven years ago. Ozone had no idea how old Famine and the queen had been at the time, but their dragonet could be even older than twenty-seven if the two SandWings had been together before the war. Depending on when their egg had hatched, they could even have grandchildren by now. And who could even argue that they'd only had one secret dragonet? There could be a whole clan of them hiding somewhere.

Ozone suppressed a sigh. Trying to figure out the truth behind the rumor seemed hopeless. He'd never even met any SandWings in the right age range to suspect.

Once he reached his destination, Ozone stopped short in surprise. The place was positively packed, as if half the city's residents were currently taking their lunch break. The sheer number of SandWings and SkyWings living in Possibility made it impossible to locate Jackal, Kulta, Tumblweed, and Sard by color.

Eventually, he caught sight of Barracuda's dusky blue scales as she gestured with her wings, deep in conversation with a SandWing Ozone didn't recognize. Mumbling apologies, he shoved through the crowd until he'd made his way to her side.

"Oh, hey," Barracuda said, once he'd finally reached the table she was sitting at. She squinted at him thoughtfully. "You're Ozone, right?"

He nodded.

"Found him," she called loudly, making him jump. A few moments later, Jackal, Kulta and Tumbleweed appeared from the crowd, Sard trailing cautiously behind them.

"Hey, Ozone," said Tumbleweed, grinning. "Why do you keep disappearing?"

"Sorry about that," he said, dipping his head apologetically. "I just saw someone I knew on the way here and stopped to talk to her."

"Oh, really?" said Jackal, cocking his head to one side. "Who?"

"It was Puddle," he said, "the delivery dragon who always carried our letters. She told me to warn you to stay out of trouble."

The mottled SandWing laughed. "She knows me too well."

Ozone forced a smile, though he felt as if his insides were twisting into knots. He decided not to bring up Puddle's specific warning about the Tribeless. He didn't want to ruin his friend's lighthearted mood with such a dire subject, especially when he didn't have any substantial information about the rebel group.

 _Still, that's something I should definitely tell Claret when I get home,_ he thought, trying to stick the idea firmly in his mind so he wouldn't forget.

The SandWing Barracuda had been talking to was eyeing them curiously. He had odd grayish scales that made him look almost like he was made of stone, and there were faint frown lines etched into his snout. He towered over the group of dragonets. It was hard to guess his age; he wasn't elderly, but he was clearly considerably older than any of the other dragons Ozone had met today. Ozone guessed he was around thirty.

"Oh, right," said Barracuda, gesturing between them with her talons. "This is why I don't like doing introductions; I always forget. Gravel, this is Ozone, the SkyWing Jack's been telling us about. SkyWing, this is Gravel."

"Nice to meet you," Ozone said, as politely as he could.

Gravel only grunted in response, though there was a glimmer of something in his dark eyes that might have been approval. Ozone wasn't sure what to make of him.

He was more focused on wondering what exactly Jackal had told them about him. What was this group about, anyway, and why had Jackal thought he might be interested in joining? More importantly, why had he changed his mind?

Barracuda lifted her wing to wave over a few more dragons, who gathered around them. There was another SeaWing, this one with aquamarine scales, along with a trio of MudWings and a heavily scarred SkyWing who was missing half a horn. "Everyone, you've heard of Ozone before, yada yada. Ozone, this lot here is Thermocline, Muskeg, Amphibian, Till, Bayou—sorry, Bayou isn't with us anymore—and Rockslide."

"What happened to Bayou, anyway?" Tumbleweed interjected. Ozone glanced at her and saw that her expression was uncharacteristically serious again.

The MudWings—Muskeg, Amphibian, and Till—exchanged subtle glances before the largest of the three spoke up, lifting his chin. "It's not what you're thinking. Bayou disagreed with our training practices, so he ran out on us."

"That sounds likely," the SkyWing—Rockslide—scoffed. "Are you sure you didn't have another of your so-called training 'accidents', Amphibian?"

Till growled, but Amphibian cut her off. "Quite sure."

"What accidents?" Ozone asked Tumbleweed.

"They lost two of their sibs," she said, not quite meeting his gaze. "I wasn't there, but… apparently they were injured and couldn't be saved."

 _Two dragonets died… during peacetime?_ These MudWings looked only a few years older than Ozone, not nearly old enough to have fought in the war. How strict was their training? And did it really need to be so harsh?

Rockslide, on the other talon, looked very much as if he'd fought in the war. Not only had one of his horns been partially broken off, but his carmine scales were chipped and blunted, and his wings were ragged at the edges. His murky yellow eyes had the dark look of a dragon who had seen more violence than he should.

Noticing Ozone's gaze lingering on him with faint horror at his appearance, the older SkyWing glowered. Ozone hastily glanced away.

Thermocline looked around the same age as Rockslide, though she bore far fewer scars. There was one nasty one across the aquamarine scales of her snout, but she still didn't look as intimidating as the SkyWing. When she glanced over and noticed Ozone studying her curiously, she smiled and waved in a friendly-looking way.

"Regardless of what actually happened to Bayou," Gravel said, "his disappearance means that we are now a member short. We should not shrink our numbers farther by pushing each other away with hostility." His voice was soft, but it held an almost regal-sounding authority, and the other dragons fell silent to consider his words.

"He's right," said Amphibian, who seemed to speak for all three MudWings; that, along with his size, marked him as their bigwings. Till, the female, was almost the same height, while Muskeg was a little smaller. Ozone wasn't standing next to them, but he guessed he'd stand at the height of Muskeg's shoulder if he had been.

Ozone felt hopelessly torn. He was inclined to like any dragon who was friendly to him, but at the same time, some of these dragons were clearly dangerous, even if they felt no ill will towards him. He just hoped he'd be safe with Jackal.

Nervously, he edged a little closer to his SandWing friend.

"This isn't everyone," Barracuda said, rolling her eyes. "Not everyone could make it, and some of them got distracted over at the bar. I'm not going to drag them over now, especially if Jackal is convinced that you wouldn't be interested in joining."

Ozone opened his mouth to ask what the group was about and why exactly Jackal had made his decision for him, but the SeaWing was already gesturing to the far wall of the restaurant, where a huge crowd of dragons had gathered around the bar.

Their scales were mostly shades of red, orange, brown, and yellow, but Ozone also spotted Loess's tan scales in the crowd. The potter was laughing with a SeaWing bartender in a way that reminded Ozone that despite calling him 'young one', the hybrid probably wasn't more than eleven or twelve years older than him. Like Gravel, it was difficult to tell how old he was, in part due to the weary look in his eyes. All the dragons who had fought in the Great Pyrrhian War seemed to have aged beyond their years.

 _Is Loess part of Jackal's group too?_ Ozone wondered. He couldn't remember if the two had acknowledged each other when they'd visited the potter's shop. _Or does he just happen to be here at the same time?_

"W-what is this group about, anyway?" he asked, turning back to the others. He tried to keep his voice light and interested, but he still stuttered a little, betraying his nerves. Ozone hoped that wasn't as noticeable to his friends as it was to him.

He looked to Jackal, who exchanged a glance with Barracuda.

For a moment, no one answered, and then Jackal gave a sheepish grin. "It's a history thing. We've been trying to come up with a good way to memorialize the war. Collecting accounts from dragons who fought in the war"—he nodded at Rockslide and Gravel—"and reenacting battles and such. Since you sounded interested in other tribes' cultures in our letters, I figured you might want to join. I promise, the way I described it makes it sound much nerdier than it actually is."

Kulta snorted, as if she found Jackal's explanation amusing. Or perhaps as if she thought it was exactly as nerdy as it sounded.

"That does sound interesting," Ozone said, ignoring her. That wasn't what he had been expecting, but it did genuinely sound interesting, at least in his opinion. Judging by Sard's incredulous expression, she didn't agree.

"I'm glad you think so," Jackal said, his grin widening. "But even so, I don't think you'd be able to join. Our base is a lot closer to Possibility than yours, and it seems like your soldiers are a lot busier. We meet almost once a week."

"Oh," said Ozone, his excitement deflating. "I don't think Claret would let me go anywhere that often. Like you said, it's pretty far from our base."

Jackal gave him a sympathetic look. "Yeah," he said. "Well, you can still stop by every once in a while to see how things are going."

"I'll do that," he said, nodding.

Glancing around, he saw that most of the others looked immensely amused by the exchange. Were they laughing at him? Did they, like Tumbleweed, think that he got overly excited about other tribes' cultures?

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Tumbleweed, smirking.

Well, they were the ones who'd decided to collect information about the war in the first place, so they weren't ones to judge.

Sard's disbelieving stare had now turned into glaring daggers, which didn't clear up anything at all.

Ozone remained distracted throughout the rest of lunch, his thoughts jumping all over the place. It felt like only a few moments had passed before they were getting ready to leave, and Tumbleweed nudged him to snap him out of his reverie.

The rest of the day passed by almost as quickly, and Ozone couldn't help but feel relieved at the thought of returning to the familiarity of the SkyWing military base. As exciting as this trip had been, it was also loud and chaotic and filled with worry.

They traveled back with the SandWings, who thankfully joked and laughed all the way and didn't prompt either Ozone or Sard to say much.

When reached the border between the Sand and Sky Kingdoms, and it was time for them to part ways, Ozone felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

"It was so nice to see you again," Jackal said, clasping Ozone's talons in his.

"Agreed," said Kulta, nodding to him with what he was starting to recognize as a friendly glimmer in her pitch-dark eyes. "And I was glad to meet you, Sardonyx."

Sard gave a nod in response but said nothing. Ozone glanced at her, wondering if she was still angry. Judging by her silence, she probably was.

"Thanks for showing me around Possibility," he said to the SandWings. "It really is an amazing place."

"It was our pleasure," Tumbleweed said, grinning.

Once they'd finished their farewells, the desert dragons flew away, still chatting and laughing. Sard waited until they were out of sight to elbow Ozone in the ribs.

He yelped. "What was that for?"

"Memorializing the war?" she snapped. "You actually believed that?"

It took him a second to process what she was saying. "You think they were lying about the purpose of their group? Why would they do that?"

"My question exactly," Sard growled, lashing her tail so violently that she almost knocked herself out of the air. "We have to tell Claret that there's something suspicious going on there. At the very least, she can deal with that SeaWing."

"Barracuda?" Ozone said, puzzled. "What do you mean, deal with her?"

"She's selling weapons!" Sard hissed, smacking him over the head with her wing. "Have you misplaced your brain? That's illegal!"

"Oh, right." He'd honestly been so preoccupied with Puddle's warning about the Tribeless and wondering how long Sard would stay angry at him that he'd forgotten all about Barracuda and Tumbleweed's sketchy behavior. "We should definitely tell Claret about that." That made two groups she had to worry about, then—whatever Jackal and his friends were up to in addition to the Tribeless dragons.

Sard snorted derisively and said nothing.

Ozone gave her a nervous glance, rubbing his forehead wearily. In only one day, it felt like his life had gotten ten times more complicated.

He and Sard were so preoccupied with their thoughts that they didn't notice the dragon flying stealthily along behind them. The dragon watched with narrowed eyes as the SkyWing dragonets entered their secret base, disappearing into a concealed opening on the side of the cliff. He circled slowly around the base, memorizing the details of the area, and then turned and flew back the way he had come.


	18. Chapter 17

**AN: Hello everyone! I don't have much to say this time around, other than that the poll is still open on my profile. Also, if anyone was wondering how far along we are in the story, I'd say we're nearing the end of what would be Part 1 of a _Wings of Fire_ book. I don't have a whole outline planned out, but I've been dividing the plot into roughly three sections in my head, and I'm still on the first one. That means there are plenty more chapters to come!**

 **Anyways, I'll get on with the story now. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!**

* * *

"It sounds like you had a very long day," Cornice observed.

"I did," Ozone sighed. "It was fun, but also really overwhelming. I don't thrive in busy places the way Jackal and the others do."

Cornice didn't respond, giving himself some time to think over everything Ozone had just told him. The SkyWing hadn't filtered any information out of his story, giving a detailed, step by step description of everything he had done in Possibility. While it was good to hear about other places besides the Ice Kingdom and the valley he'd grown tired of seeing outside this cave, it was hard to organize everything in his mind that way. Especially since Ozone kept accidentally leaving things out and adding them in later.

Ozone had already relayed this information to his commander, but apparently reporting it hadn't been enough to alleviate the worry pressing down on his shoulders. He'd been hesitant to talk about it at first, but it was clear to Cornice that something was bothering him. He'd prompted the SkyWing to tell him what was going on, and Ozone had eventually caved, spilling out a torrent of worried thoughts.

Along with the story, he'd confessed that he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he'd forgotten when he'd conveyed the information to Claret.

Ozone toyed with the strap of the pouch he'd brought, which was now empty, but which had been full of berries he'd bought in Possibility. Cornice had only ever eaten meat and fish before, but he had to admit that the sugary sweetness of the fruit had not been unpleasant. He and Ozone had quickly finished off the food together.

"Tell me about the SandWings' group again," Cornice said, with a sigh.

Ozone twisted his claws together nervously at the faint hint of impatience that had crept into the IceWing's tone. "Sorry. I know I'm not the best at storytelling."

"It's fine," Cornice said, flicking his tail dismissively. "Just repeat that part."

Ozone hesitated, clearly trying to figure out what Cornice really meant by 'fine', before apparently deciding not to risk annoying the IceWing any further by making him wait—which was a wise choice, in Cornice's opinion.

"Jackal was being really mysterious about the whole thing, not telling me what it was about, cutting Barracuda off when she was about to mention it, and stuff like that," Ozone said. "He also tried to brush it off later by saying he thought it would bore me. He did eventually explain, but Sard thinks he was lying about memorializing the war."

"I agree with Sard," Cornice said.

"Why?" Ozone asked. "How can you tell he was lying?"

"It sounds like he changed tactics," Cornice pointed out. "You told me he said it would bore you, but let you forget about that once he told you about the 'purpose' of the group and instead told you couldn't join because you lived too far away."

"You're right," Ozone said uneasily.

"I think he doesn't want you to know what's really going on," the white dragon continued. "He probably wanted to recruit you for his group and then changed his mind once he got to know you better. I'm willing to guess that it's something shady."

"Why?" Ozone asked.

Three moons, this SkyWing really needed everything spelled out clearly for him. "Because I can't see any other reason why he would suddenly decide not to include you. I'm guessing he realized that you're dedicated to strictly following the rules."

Ozone tilted his head to one side. "You know, I think you're the only dragon I've heard say that in an approving tone."

"IceWings are typically good about following rules," Cornice said impatiently. "If there's a law, it obviously exists for a good reason. If you break the rules and something bad happens to you as a result, then you were asking for it." He tried not to think too hard about his father as he spoke. "But that's not important right now. Can we please focus on the task at talon? We can figure this out."

"We can?" Ozone asked, and then hurriedly switched tactics as Cornice gave him an exasperated look. "I mean, we can. But as curious as I am about what Jackal's group is actually about, I'm more worried about the Tribeless."

Cornice jumped and gave Ozone a startled look.

"Oh, did I not tell you that part?" The SkyWing's made an apologetic expression. "I was sure I did. I definitely told it to Claret, and I thought I told you, too."

"No, you certainly did not." Cornice tried to reassemble his composure. "I didn't realize the Tribeless were active among other tribes. I thought that rebel group existed exclusively in the Ice Kingdom."

"They're in the Ice Kingdom?" Ozone asked, looking surprised. "I figured they'd just started their group now, in Possibility. That's what Puddle—the MudWing who told me about the Tribeless—seemed to think, anyway."

Cornice shook his head. "No, they definitely started up a while back. I think it was about a year ago... a dragon named Tundra came by my house, looking for dragons to recruit. I didn't talk to him, but my older sister told me about him afterwards."

"You have a sister?" Ozone asked.

Cornice scowled, realizing his mistake too late. "Not important. The important thing is that _IceWings_ started the Tribeless, not these Possibility dragons."

"That can't be right," Ozone said, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"Because Puddle told me that they found a SandWing to lead them. Specifically, the dragonet of Famine and Queen Rain Shadow." Ozone eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, I think _that's_ what I forgot to tell Claret!"

"For the love of the Great Ice Dragon, Ozone!" Cornice yelped, flaring his wings in exasperation. "That's the most important part! How could you forget that?"

Ozone twisted his claws together, leaning away from the IceWing's angry yelling as if afraid Cornice would hit him. "It was just a rumor, Puddle said. And I had a lot on my mind. I can't remember everything, okay?"

"Only useless details, apparently," Cornice muttered.

For a moment, both of them were silent.

Then Ozone asked, "Did that gesture hurt your wing?"

"… A little, yeah," Cornice admitted, glancing down at it. "But I think it's just sore from when I went out flying the other day."

"You went flying the other day?" Ozone asked, looking hurt.

Cornice frowned. "Yeah. I didn't go far—just to a nearby lake and back. I didn't damage my wing any further, and I wasn't caught, don't worry. I was extremely careful. I did see your Commander Spark fly by on patrol, though, or something like that."

Ozone blinked in surprise. "That's… not possible. Spark almost never leaves our base. The other soldiers-in-training and I do all the patrolling with Claret."

Cornice flicked his tail thoughtfully. "That'd odd. I figured it had to be him. The dragon was covered in scars, which I assumed meant he'd fought in the Great Pyrrhian War. He was even missing half a horn."

Ozone frowned. "What did he look like? I mean, what color were his scales?"

"Dark red," the IceWing told him, not sure why it mattered but deciding to humor his friend anyway. He felt kind of bad for yelling at Ozone; as exasperating as the other dragonet's forgetfulness could be, it wasn't something he could really control. "Darker than yours. And his wings were orange."

"Were his eyes murky yellow?"

"I think so," Cornice responded. "Why?"

"That's definitely not Spark," Ozone said slowly. "In fact, your description sounds exactly like a dragon I just met in Possibility. Rockslide, the SkyWing in Jackal's group. What would he be doing here, though?"

"I don't know," Cornice admitted. "But the dragon I saw was pretty distinctive-looking; I would definitely recognize him if I ever saw him again."

"Same with Rockslide," Ozone agreed.

"So, I think we can safely assume that it was Rockslide I saw by the lake," Cornice mused. "And he was very clearly looking around for something, which was why I thought he was Spark on patrol. That's interesting. I'll keep thinking about it and let you know if I come up with any ideas. For now, tell me more about the Tribeless."

"Well, their leader is a SandWing, apparently," Ozone said. "The secret dragonet of Famine and Rain Shadow, though I'm not sure why that matters."

Cornice narrowed his eyes. "Some dragons, even some IceWings, loved Famine. They thought he was stronger than our queen. They'd give anything to pretend that he's back from the dead, even if that means bowing down to his son or daughter."

"That's… alarming," said Ozone.

"I know." Cornice shrugged. "But that's just what charisma is like."

"What do _you_ know about the Tribeless?" Ozone asked.

"Only what I was told," the white dragon answered, trying to remember. "They're discontent with the tribe system, especially the monarchy. They believe the continent should be ruled by a single leader, which would be a position voted on periodically by an elite nobility rather than won in battle. That leader wouldn't even need to be female."

"That doesn't sound entirely bad," Ozone said thoughtfully.

"I don't think you should be agreeing with rebels," Cornice said.

"But killing for leadership is an outdated practice," the SkyWing responded. "The Rainforest Kingdoms have been using a different system for centuries. And tribism has been an ongoing problem for just as long. Living as a single tribe might change that."

"That's not important now," Cornice said irritably. "The point is, that's what my sister told me. I also know they were founded at least a year ago, judging by when that Tundra dragon spoke to my sister. They were still only a small group back then, and I don't think they mentioned anything to her about a leader. The rumor you heard about Famine's dragonet could very well be true."

"That's what worries me," the SkyWing confessed. "I wish I had remembered to tell Claret about that. You're right, it _is_ the most important part."

"If she speaks to your source of information, I'm sure that dragon will tell her the rumor," Cornice pointed out. "And if Claret doesn't find out all the information that was just given to you, then that means she must not be doing a proper job investigating."

Ozone considered that information. "Was that supposed to be comforting?"

"It was," said Cornice, feeling pleased for only a moment before the implications of the SkyWing's question sank in. "But if you needed to ask that, I'm going to guess it didn't come across right."

Ozone shook his head. "I appreciate the attempt, though."

"Hmph," Cornice huffed, feeling like his pride had been damaged. "You'd better. And in my defense, IceWings are inherently terrible at expressing sympathy, or any kind of emotion, really. That was the best I could do."

"Claret is leaving early tomorrow morning," Ozone said thoughtfully, ignoring the IceWing's moodiness. "Maybe I'll have time to tell her about the whole secret-dragonet-Tribeless-leader thing before she heads out."

"Is she going all by herself?" Cornice asked.

"No, she's taking a team with her to investigate all that shady stuff we uncovered in Possibility," Ozone explained. "Sard and I have to be left behind, since we could be recognized, Gale still has an infected wound, and Spark is staying to supervise us, but Ridge and Buzzard are free to go with Claret."

"And that's not too noticeable of a group, either," Cornice remarked.

"It works out," agreed Ozone.

"What are you going to do in the meantime?" asked the IceWing.

Ozone sighed. "Stay behind and guard our base, I guess. That mostly translates to having nothing to do except worry, though. And either subject myself to a one-sided conversation with Spark or try to keep Sard and Gale from ripping each other apart."

"Your life is a colossal mess," Cornice observed, not sure whether to be amused or exasperated by this overabundance of drama.

Ozone lowered his head. "I almost think it was better before I became a soldier. I didn't really have any friends, but I wasn't so overwhelmed all the time, either. I feel constantly indecisive about pretty much everything these days. It's hard to make any kind of decision without trusting my judgement, but it's hard to trust myself when it feels like I can't do anything right."

 _Why are you telling me this?_ Cornice wanted to ask, but the words died on his tongue. Ozone was opening up to him, and some clumsily confused part of him realized that a normal, non-IceWing dragon would comfort the SkyWing instead of pushing him away with sharp, judgmental questions.

"That's not true," he said. "You healed my wing. You did that right."

He wasn't sure if that was even close to the right thing to say. He felt helpless, and helplessness was such an un-IceWing feeling that Cornice almost laughed out loud. But it wasn't funny, so he bit his tongue.

"Thanks," said Ozone, glancing at him with an expression that was half wry, half genuinely amused. "That means a lot, Cornice."

"Laughing at my awkward attempts to offer support?" the IceWing sniffed, when in reality he felt nearly as mushy on the inside as the berries Ozone had brought him. "That's fine. I won't bother trying next time you get all emotional on me."

"No, it was nice," the red-and-gold dragon said earnestly.

"Pfft," was Cornice's only response. But his words had been an empty threat, and both of them knew it. "You'd best get going so you can tell Claret about the Tribeless's supposed leader. Don't waste your time on small talk with me."

Ozone's face became serious. "You're right. Thanks, Cornice." With that, he turned to fly away, but something made Cornice reach out a talon to stop him.

"What is it?" the SkyWing asked.

Cornice opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Be careful."

Ozone searched his gaze for a moment but didn't ask what Cornice had meant by that. He only nodded solemnly. "I will."


	19. Chapter 18

**AN: Hey, everyone! I totally missed this story's first anniversary back in April (due mostly to real life obligations and then computer issues that are thankfully fixed now), but I'd just like to thank everyone who's been following it since then and everyone who's joined along the way. I hope you're all enjoying reading this fanfiction even half as much as I am writing it! This story has taught me a lot about the writing process, so I'm very glad that I decided to embark on this journey with all of you. Thanks for continuing to support Ozone, Cornice, and all the others!**

 **A lot has changed since I started writing _Unexpected Places_ , including my writing style and even a lot of the overarching plot. Ideally, I'd rewrite the whole thing as a second, smoother draft, but I've been taking too much time to update as is, so I'm going to just do my best with what I've already written and try to keep everything consistent from here on out. I'll be working as hard as I can to wrap up altered character arcs, subplots, etc. in a neat way without wrecking anything I set up in earlier chapters. The stylistic details and internal changes to plot points shouldn't have a big effect on you as the readers, since they've been happening gradually along the way, but I wanted to let you know just in case some parts of the story come across as a little rocky. If I make any mistakes, big or small, please let me know and I'll do what I can to iron them out!**

 **Thanks for reading my author's note. I hope you enjoy this chapter (and the many still to come)!**

* * *

Claret gazed intently at Ozone, her yellow eyes boring into his own nervous gaze as if she wished she could pry open his skull with her talons and take his memories for herself. "So, you're telling me that according to the dragon you spoke with, the Tribeless have found a descendant of Famine and ex-Queen Rain Shadow of the SandWings. And they've chosen that dragon to be their leader?"

He swallowed nervously and nodded. "That's what she said."

His commander narrowed her eyes. "Is your source trustworthy?"

Ozone was startled by the question. She hadn't asked him that the first time he and Sard had told her about their trip to Possibility. "I-I assume so. She's never given me any reason _not_ to trust her. And she was trying to warn me so I wouldn't get hurt. What would she have to gain by making up?"

"I can think of a lot of things," Claret said, her tone low and ominous. "One being that she wants you, a SkyWing soldier, to stay away from Possibility. Tell me, what did her expression look like when she was telling you this?"

"Concerned," he told her, with as much confidence as he could muster. He did have difficulty interpreting facial expressions, but Puddle's had been clearly worried. "I don't think she was trying to manipulate me."

"You never do." His commander sighed and began pacing the length of her cave. "I'm glad you told me about your concerns, but this new information makes it difficult to identify which parts we should focus on first. There's the matter of the SeaWing jeweler who disguises weapons as harmless pieces; that sounds like the most trivial problem, yet the easiest one to get out of the way.

"But there's also the matter of the rest of your friend Jackal's group, who are most likely lying about their purpose. Lying indicates that it's probably something dangerous, or at the very least illegal in some way. The secrecy makes it a more concerning issue than smuggling, but it requires more observation before we can address it."

She reached the wall and turned around, prowling back towards Ozone with a thoughtful frown on her face. "And then there's the most important issue, the Tribeless, who we know the least about but who are clearly the biggest threat. Anarchists are some of the most dangerous dragons you could ever encounter. Knowing that their leader is likely a SandWing is helpful information, but it also complicates the issue."

"Why?" Ozone asked anxiously.

"Why?" echoed Claret. "Because it suggests that a cult following, like that Famine built up during his own rise to power, has arisen around another charismatic young dragon. History is repeating itself. Given the right opportunity, this new SandWing can use the momentum Famine built up to rapidly gain similar power, and, left unchecked, could become even more dangerous than Famine himself."

She looked up at Ozone, her gaze deadly serious, and he felt his blood run cold.

"Could they really be that dangerous?" he asked.

"It's entirely possible," his commander responded. "This group may be known only in rumors, but I'm sure there were rumors about Famine in the Sand Kingdom, too, before he suddenly took over half of Pyrrhia. Don't underestimate what an abundance of charisma and the right amount of daring can accomplish."

Ozone nodded uneasily. _What can we do about the Tribeless? Even if we see it coming, is there any way to stop this from escalating? Or is it already too late?_

Claret rubbed her forehead and sighed, appearing very tired for a moment before she steeled her expression. "Buzzard, Ridge, and I should head out now. We have a lot of work cut out for us. I'm not sure how much we can accomplish in a single day of investigation, but I'll keep this new information in mind."

The other male dragonets had already gathered in the entrance cave, waiting for their commander to join them. Ozone guessed that Buzzard was eager to depart, while Ridge would remain more reserved yet equally determined. They were a good team. If anyone could figure this out, it would be them.

"Thank you, Claret," he said gratefully.

He followed her to the entrance cave, wanting to wish the soldiers a safe mission. Sard and Gale were already there, along with grumpy old Spark. Gale's expression had settled into her signature frown, while Sard's looked relatively neutral until she caught sight of Ozone and set her jaw angrily.

 _Still holding a grudge then,_ he thought, sighing inwardly.

"Take care," Spark said gruffly, nodding to the departing group in farewell. "I'll make sure everything goes smoothly here while you're gone." He subtly puffed out his chest with pride, which Ozone had no doubt the other dragonets would've mocked him relentlessly for if the mood hadn't been so serious.

"Thank you," Claret said, nodding back. "I know you will."

"Good luck," said a female voice, and Ozone was a little startled to turn and see that the offering had come from Gale. She was still frowning, but her expression seemed more worried than angry and her tone hadn't been bitter at all, even though Ozone knew she would've definitely wanted to go with them if not for her injury.

"Thanks," said Ridge, nodding gratefully.

Buzzard only snorted, seeming impatient to be off.

"We'll be back soon," Claret said firmly, leaving no room for argument. Her vocal confidence would've been more reassuring if she hadn't just expressed her concerns to Ozone. "I expect the three of you to continue your training today, even in my absence."

"Understood," said Gale, while Ozone nodded obediently and Sard mumbled her reluctant assent. Spark proclaimed something about keeping the dragonets in line, but no one took him particularly seriously.

Ozone couldn't help the nervousness settling in his belly as he watched their red and orange wings disappear over the horizon. Like he'd said to Cornice, he doubted he'd be able to take his mind off his fellow soldiers' mission. It was going to be a long day.

 _I hope everything goes well,_ he thought. _I told Claret everything I remember, so I should just let her and the others handle the rest. It's not like I'd be much help if I was there, but… actually showing them the places I was talking about would be way more efficient than describing them. I hope I did a good enough job with that._

He tried very hard not to worry. _Cornice had a point earlier. Claret is the most capable dragon I know. She definitely won't miss any important details._

He paced nervously for a while before deciding to try to do something productive. He managed to distract himself by working out in the training room for what felt like a few hours but turned out to be only forty minutes or so.

On his way out of the training cave, he collided with Gale as she came stalking in. Ozone hurriedly leapt back, stammering apologies, but Gale hadn't started yelling like he'd expected her to. She only stared at him for a moment. Her facial expression looked strangely hesitant for a moment, like she couldn't decide whether she wanted to bite him or stomp away in the opposite direction.

Then she spoke up. "You too?"

"Huh?" Ozone said stupidly. He hadn't expected her to ask a question.

Gale sighed and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "moon-smashing idiot". "You're worried too, aren't you?"

Gale was worried? She didn't look it.

Ozone swallowed nervously, deciding to be honest. "Y-yes."

She curled her lip in the beginning of a snarl. "Don't stammer—it's annoying. I'll have you know that I'm only talking to you because my only other options are Sard and Spark. But it's barely been an hour and I'm already going mad waiting around."

Ozone understood her aching restlessness; he felt the same, after all. He shifted indecisively on his talons. He wanted to express his sympathy, maybe even try to shrink the yawning gap between them, but he'd never known how and had always been too timid to try. He wished he wasn't so useless with words.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"What?" Gale asked, impatiently. "What are you sorry about?"

"Stammering," he said, ducking his head. "Getting in your way. Your injury."

She fell silent for a moment, tail-tip twitching. "You really are spineless."

Ozone didn't respond. He couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing would ever satisfy this dragon, would it? All he wanted was to not be hated.

Was that really too much to ask for?

Gale seemed to realize he wasn't going to respond and filled the silence with her own voice instead. "Did you have a fight with Sard? She's been glaring at you nastily all day. Ever since you came back from Possibility, actually."

"Yeah," Ozone admitted. "We did argue."

"What about?"

"She thought my SandWing friends were suspicious."

Gale growled. "Well, she turned out to be right, didn't she?"

Ozone didn't let himself rise to the bait. He didn't want to be mocked relentlessly for being gullible. And he knew that his friends probably were up to something, but he still didn't want to believe it. "I never thought I'd hear you say that about Sard."

Gale grimaced, like she'd gotten pigeon feathers stuck between her teeth. "I don't like saying it, but I will if it's true. I'm not like her. You never seemed to realize that."

They were both silent for a moment. Gale glared aside at the wall.

Ozone opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. If he didn't say this now, then he probably never would. "Can I ask you something?"

Gale grunted her assent.

"Why do you hate me so much?" He faltered for a moment as she turned to stare directly into his eyes, looking startled. "I mean, I know it's partially because I'm friends with Sard, but I think you hate me even more than you hate her."

To his surprise, Gale barked a harsh laugh at that. "It seems you _have_ grown a spine after all," she said, instead of answering.

"Is it because you think I'm weak?" He refused to let her laughter silence him, even though his scales felt thinner than the air at extremely high altitudes. "Is it because I'm an easy target? Is that why you've always liked to pick on me?"

Her expression darkened. "That's an insult, Ozone. Even now, you always insult me, without even trying. Don't be an idiot. That's never been the reason."

He gritted his teeth. "Then tell me what is."

Gale growled deep in her throat, a sound of pure frustration. "You've always been so oblivious, Ozone! You always want dragons to like you. And dragons _do_ like you, even though you don't have an ounce of sense in your pigeon-down head, you don't care about being a soldier, and you don't even try. You're everyone's favorite. I put in twice as much effort, and Claret barely glances my way."

Ozone stared at her. _She's jealous. All this time, her hatred has been jealousy?_

"And I've never been the bully here, which you would've seen if you didn't believe everything your friends tell you. Sard has always been the one antagonizing _me_. Sure, I _have_ picked on you, but I've only become what _you_ made me out to be from the start."

Ozone was shocked. "I- I didn't mean to."

"No, you never do!" she snapped. "You think you're so innocent!"

"I-I thought…" He didn't even know what to say. He'd assumed that Sard, who'd been nice to him from the beginning, was the better of the two. But when he stopped to think about it, the only evidence he'd had for that was the way they treated _him_ , not the way they treated each other. Sard always had been the one antagonizing Gale, and he'd never even noticed. Had he really been that self-centered?

"You thought _what_?" Gale growled.

He swallowed. "I thought wrong. I'm sorry."

She didn't respond right away, but she took a few deep breaths, and the tension seemed to ebb out of her. Her clenched talons loosened their fists. "That's it?" she said, and her tone was calmer now, but still somewhat incredulous. "You're sorry?"

"Yes," he said. "That doesn't make it right, but I am sorry."

"You are," she responded.

It was more of a statement than a question, but he still nodded.

Gale cleared her throat. "Okay. I guess… I am too."

"You are?" he echoed.

Her expression soured. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"Ah, okay. Sorry." He lowered his gaze bashfully.

For a moment, they both stood there in awkward silence.

This was the first time Ozone had felt something other than malice radiating from Gale. He didn't know what it was, didn't think it was something all the way to grudging respect, even. They would still probably never be friendly to each other. He'd probably always be a little afraid of her, and she'd probably always think he was annoying. But he hoped that maybe they'd get along a little better from now on.

Gale stood aside to let him walk past her.

"Thanks," he said, hurrying out of her way.

She grunted in acknowledgement before disappearing into the training cave.

Ozone watched her go, feeling a little more optimistic about today's turn of events than he had just a few minutes before.

* * *

Cornice cringed as the sound of his own sneeze came echoing back to him in the narrow crevice in the back wall of his cave. This place was awfully moldy. Coming back here again had been a terrible idea. His brain must have melted in this horrible non-icy place for him to ever think that it had been a good one.

Yet here he was, the empty pouch Ozone had used to bring the berries clutched in one set of ridged talons as he cautiously maneuvered his way back to the cavern with the multicolored stone walls he'd discovered the other day.

He'd been trying to think of a way to repay the SkyWing for his help. And as soon as he'd heard Ozone talking about beautiful things, he'd thought of those stones. To be more specific, he'd decided to go back into this confining, moldy crevice just to collect a few small, particularly shiny ones to give to Ozone as a present.

 _By all the teeth of the Great Ice Dragon, I'm an idiot,_ he thought. _I'm acting like a two-year-old dragonet with a crush._

Shaking off the thought, he continued down the tunnel until he reached the cave with the banded walls. Thankfully, even though it was overly colorful and there wasn't a lot of light, at least his wings were no longer pinned to his sides. He stretched them to their full extent, relieved to find that any stiffness from his flight to the lake had faded.

Cornice crouched on stone floor, bending his head to search for any chips of rock that might have been knocked loose somehow. As he did so, he could've sworn he heard the sound of wingbeats echoing in from the main cave.

 _I thought Ozone said he wouldn't come today,_ Cornice thought, frowning. _Don't he and his fellow soldiers have to guard their base while his commander investigates the Tribeless? I must've imagined it._

As he gathered a few glittering rocks and slid them into the pouch, he kept his ears pricked just in case Ozone started calling for him. He didn't want the SkyWing to worry or assume that Cornice had flown off somewhere.

A few moments later, he began to hear voices. _I'm definitely not imagining that._

But it wasn't Ozone calling his name. It sounded like multiple dragons speaking to each other. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but there were definitely at least three or four different voices out there.

Cornice's heart leapt into his throat. Had the SkyWings discovered him?

Tying the pouch's string around his upper arm so that he wouldn't stub his talons on the rocks now inside, he hurriedly crept back along the tunnel. As he got closer to the main cave, the voices became louder and easier to make out.

"How many dragons will we be up against?" one of them asked, in a deep, solemn voice. It sounded like a male dragon, someone older than Cornice's father.

"Not many," a soft female voice responded. "Half of them are off on a wild goose chase in Possibility, which makes now the perfect time to strike."

"And I've already pinpointed the location of their base," a gruff male voice said—a different one than the first speaker. "Getting in won't be an issue."

 _Strike?_ They were talking about the SkyWings' investigation in the third person, so this must be a different group. Were they going to attack the SkyWings' base? How did they even know where it was? How did they know about the mission to Possibility? And who exactly were _they_? Cornice had to get some answers.

He edged closer, barely daring to breathe. Through the crevice, he glimpsed pale gold scales and a barbed tail flicking slowly from side to side. _SandWing!_

He shifted his position to peer out at a different angle, hoping to see who else was out there. There was another SandWing standing across from the gold dragon, this one with mottled brown and gray scales and a confident smile.

 _They don't know I'm here,_ Cornice thought, pulling away from the crevice so that the other dragons wouldn't notice him. _They're just using this cave for themselves. I have terrible luck, don't I? They could've chosen any cave in the entire valley, and they had to pick the one I've been hiding in._

"Where's the firewood?" grumbled another female voice. "We definitely left some here last time. So we could actually see what's going on in here, remember?"

 _Firewood?_ Suddenly, Cornice remembered the first time he'd met Ozone, how there'd already been a piece of wood here that they'd used to start a fire. He'd assumed that someone had stopped there briefly while passing through the area, but he'd been wrong. _These dragons must've been using this cave before I ever got here!_

He pressed closer to the crevice. He needed to see what was happening.

"Forget the firewood," the mottled SandWing said, looking unconcerned. "I don't plan on staying much longer anyway. I just wanted to make sure everyone's clear on our next course of action. We'll be flying along the valley to minimize our chances of being seen. And then we'll attack the SkyWings, using sheer force of numbers to overwhelm and defeat them. Take out as many dragons as you can. And _don't_ forget to extinguish the torches as soon as we arrive. We don't want anyone to see our faces."

 _Take out._ The phrase made Cornice feel sick. _He means kill, doesn't he?_

"Of course we won't forget," said the pale gold SandWing, readjusting her wings impatiently. "We've been over this a hundred times, Jack."

"Let's stop talking about it and just go," agreed another voice.

 _Does that make five voices now, or six?_ Cornice was quickly losing track of how many dragons were here. Regardless, the cave seemed very crowded. And this group was confident they could not only outnumber but completely overwhelm the SkyWings. _Who are Ozone's troops even up against? Are these dragons the Tribeless?_

"Alright, fine," the mottled SandWing said, with a jovial grin. "Keep your scales on, Barracuda." He spread his wings and leapt into the air. "Time to go!"

The other dragons followed him in a sudden flurry of wingbeats. Cornice caught glimpses of blue scales besides brown ones, tawny alongside dark red and orange.

 _That's Rockslide!_ Cornice thought, heart pounding rapidly in his chest as he saw the familiar colors. _He must've been the one who found out where the SkyWings' base is! That must have been what he was looking for when I saw him!_

As soon as all the dragons had disappeared, he scrambled out of the crevice and leapt into the air behind them. He flew as close to the river as he dared, as fast as his wings would carry him. He didn't know exactly where he was going or what he would do when he got there, but he had to get to the base before the Tribeless did.

The SkyWings were about to be attacked, at the moment they least expected it.

He had to warn Ozone.


	20. Chapter 19

**AN: What's this? Another update, without months of silence in between? No, your eyes are not deceiving you!**

 **Thank you so much for your response to the last chapter! I was completely blown away by your enthusiasm. 4 reviews on one chapter! To be honest, I was a little worried that many of my readers would've lost interest in _Unexpected Places_ since I hadn't updated in five months, but I see now that I had nothing to fear. **

**Maybe I should write cliffhangers more often if that's what it takes to get people to review. :P (Just kidding!)**

 **Last week, I happened to post on Thursday. Some of you may remember that Thursday was my update day in the very early weeks of this story, when I actually had some chapters pre-written (which is almost unheard of now). Now it is again Thursday, so that means I'm going to do my best to get back into weekly updates! I don't know how long that'll last, but I'm going to try to post once a week at least through September. So if a Thursday goes by and I don't have a chapter ready for all of you, someone yell at me, okay?**

 **Actually, don't yell, but feel free to send a strongly-worded PM. :D**

 **I usually like to reply to reviews via PM, but I can't do that with guests, so I'll just put it here.**

 **Guest (8/23): Thank you so much! Your review really made my day! :D**

 **Its1InTheMorning: I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far! Here's your update!**

 **Guest (8/24): Thank you for letting me know! I didn't really notice as I was writing, but I see now that Ozone's "spark", as you put it, did get a little buried under all the action with the SandWings and whatnot. I'll do my best to bring it back into the spotlight in future chapters.**

 **All right, that's it! Back to the story!**

* * *

Ozone's feeling of relaxation didn't last long. If he had been counting the minutes since he'd parted with Gale in the hallway, he would've been cut off just before twenty-nine. Spark stepped into the cave he'd been resting in, a frown deepening the already creased scales on the old dragon's forehead.

"Were you dragonets hollering again?" he asked.

Ozone looked up at the soldier, puzzled. "You mean just now?" Gale had raised her voice at him earlier, but he wouldn't have described it as _hollering_ , and if that was what Spark was talking about, this was quite a delayed reaction.

Spark harrumphed impatiently. "Of course I mean just now."

Maybe Gale and Sard were arguing over some petty detail somewhere, though it seemed unlike them to fight when there was a serious mission going on. Ozone listened hard, but he didn't hear either of their voices echoing through the stone halls. And what were the odds that Spark, of all dragons, would hear something that he couldn't?

After a few moments of silence, his mind started to play tricks on him.

 _Ozone!_ he heard, as if from far away. _Ozone!_

Sard came stomping into the room a few seconds later. "Someone's shouting like a maniac outside," she told Spark, completely ignoring Ozone. "I don't know who it is or what they want, but they won't go away. What should we do about it?"

It was quite the twist of fate for her to be consulting Spark about anything, but he was the only one she was on speaking terms with at the moment, and he _was_ the oldest. And it was only natural that Sard didn't know what should be done about the problem. No dragon had ever come close to the SkyWings' base before. If there was some kind of emergency, the soldiers were obligated to do what they could about the problem, but it would be unwise to reveal the location of their base if they could help it.

"I knew I heard somethin'," said Spark.

"What are they saying?" asked Ozone.

"You don't hear it?" his friend said sharply. "Clean out your ears and listen."

Ozone shrank back from her harsh words. He closed his eyes, as if the pattern of the torch-light flickering against the stone walls might be distracting him somehow, and strained his ears. He still didn't hear anything other than the phantom voice calling out his name, but that couldn't be real, could it?

 _"_ _Ozone! For the love of the Great Ice Dragon, this is important!"_

There was no way he could have imagined that.

 _Great Ice Dragon?_ He only knew one dragon who might invoke a being like that. But what was Cornice doing here? And why was he calling for Ozone?

"I don't know who that is," growled Sard, lashing her tail. "I don't know who you were idiotic enough to tell the location of our base to, but you'd better get out there and tell them to go away before they blow our cover."

"I didn't tell anyone," he protested. "But this sounds urgent, don't you think?"

She shoved him hard. "Just go!"

Ozone looked guiltily to Spark, who gave a short nod expressing his permission. The old soldier didn't look any more pleased about their uninvited visitor than Sard did. "But you have a lot of explaining to do when you get back, dragonet."

"Understood," he said weakly, and then fled.

He ran to the entrance hall and peered out anxiously, his eyes landing on a white shape weaving frantically back and forth above the valley. For a moment, Ozone feared that Cornice's wing was failing, but no—the IceWing just didn't know exactly where the base was. His blue eyes were scanning the cliffs. "Ozone, where are you?"

"Down here!" he called out, cupping his talons around his mouth to help his voice carry farther through the open air. "Come quickly!"

Cornice spotted him and dove hurriedly to the mouth of the cave. Ozone hopped back to give him room to land, glancing nervously at the blue sky the IceWing had flown in from. To his relief, he didn't see anyone else out there who might've followed Cornice to the base. Still, he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pulled him farther into the caverns, where he knew they wouldn't be seen from the outside.

"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously. It felt almost surreal to see the ice dragon here, glittering pale orange in the light from the torches.

Cornice was breathing heavily, as if he'd flown here as fast as his wings could take him. He seemed desperate to explain his sudden appearance, but he could barely get the words out. "Dragons—coming here—going to be attacked."

Ozone's stomach lurched. "Who's coming? What are you talking about? Wait, don't stop and answer that right now. Follow me, quickly."

He hurried farther down the hallway, Cornice stumbling after him. Ozone had to take his friend to Spark; the old SkyWing needed to hear this.

Cornice grabbed his shoulder, the chill of his touch making Ozone stop short. "You don't understand! They're coming to attack you right now!"

Ozone's blood turned as cold as the IceWing's claws. "What?"

At that moment, there was a whooshing sound, and the cave went pitch black.

Something hit Ozone hard, knocking him over. His scales were scraped against the stone wall hard enough to draw blood, and he gasped at the sudden pain.

A rush of cold air blasted past him—Cornice's freezing breath, aimed at Ozone's attacker—and he heard a roar of surprised agony that shattered the quiet. Whoever was attacking them had clearly not expected to encounter an IceWing at the SkyWings' base. Cornice didn't hesitate, launching himself over Ozone's head at the invader.

All around Ozone, there were footsteps and growls and hisses, and the truth of what was happening hit him with the force of a rockslide.

Not invader. Invaders.

His head reeled. _We're under attack. We're actually under attack._

Ozone struggled to his feet in the darkness. He lashed out blindly with his front talons, first hitting only solid rock, and then scales. But the grunt of pain was his only indication that he'd done any actual damage. It was like trying to fight shadows.

A scorched scent touched his nostrils, and he realized that their attackers had not only extinguished the torches but also filled the tunnels with smoke. Even if he relit the torches, there was no way they'd be able to see anything clearly. He blinked back tears as the dry heat of the smoke stung his eyes.

There was a loud thump, as if someone had been thrown into the wall. A yelp, as if someone had been clawed in a sensitive spot. Ozone hoped neither one was Cornice.

Through the din, he heard the sound of racing footsteps, followed by Gale's sharp voice. "What's going on here? I can't see a thing!"

"Intruders!" Ozone yelled. "We're under attack!"

Warm talons—SandWing talons?—grabbed for his mouth, trying to silence him, but Gale had already heard, and was running for the gong to sound the alarm. Ozone bit down hard on his attacker's talons, making them hiss in pain.

"Get out of here right now, out the back tunnel!" yelled Gale in the distance. "As fast as you can, get Claret and the others! We need help!"

For a wild moment, Ozone thought she'd been talking to him. But he was right in the middle of the battle; there was no way he'd be able to reach the back tunnel like this, when he could barely even tell where he was or what direction he was facing.

Then he heard Sard protest, "But I can fight—"

"We don't have time to argue!" Gale shouted. "I have an infected wound, Spark's older than the Scorching, and the front entrance is blocked. You're the only one who stands a chance of catching up to them! Now go!"

If Sard responded, Ozone didn't hear it over the chaos.

He hoped she'd listened to Gale for once. In a crisis like this, seconds could mean the difference between survival and a painful death. Sard needed to hurry.

A moment later, he saw flames as Gale leapt back into the fray with a roar. Spark was right behind her—Ozone saw the imprint of his snarl before the orange light faded and they were plunged back into total darkness.

A fish-scented wing suddenly hit him over the head, dazing him momentarily.

He batted it aside. _Is that a SeaWing? Who are we up against?_

Ozone heard someone inhale behind him and whirled around, lashing out with his talons, but they met nothing but smoke and air. He blundered forward a few steps, trying to find something solid in the seemingly empty darkness. He could have sworn he saw motion, but he couldn't tell who it was or what they were doing.

Heavy claws hit Ozone just above the eye and he stumbled back, seeing stars. His attacker took advantage of his surprise and lashed out again, digging their talons deeply into the scales on his neck. Ozone yelped in pain.

His opponent tackled him, beating him with powerful wings. Ozone pushed out with all four limbs, trying to shove them off. His wildly flailing talons found the grooves of old battle scars, and without thinking, he dug his claws into them as hard as he could, feeling a burst of grim satisfaction as blood gushed out and his attacker howled in pain.

He twisted free from his opponent's grip and darted away.

Someone's tail struck him hard in the side. Even as he stumbled, he managed to pounce on it, trapping it between his front claws, and bit down on the end of it, where in the back of his dizzy mind, he knew that all tribes had a sensitive spot. He grimaced as he heard a roar confirming that he'd found it.

Suddenly, someone else jumped onto his back from behind, squishing the air out of his lungs. Ozone turned his head and did his best to breathe fire, though it was feeble without enough oxygen and petered out a moment later.

He saw the silhouette of a flat-headed dragon ducking under his attack and felt the MudWing pin down his wings with heavy feet. Thick claws grabbed the back of his neck, with the force of someone preparing to snap it. Ozone cried out in pain and terror, flailing his legs and tail as fiercely as he could. "Help!"

With a war cry, Gale cannoned into his attacker, knocking the MudWing off.

"Thanks," he gasped, leaping to his feet. He sucked in air and gathered fire into the back of his throat, keeping his jaws parted to act as a lantern. There wasn't enough light to see colors, but he could make out the forms of fighting dragons through the haze of smoke. For a moment, he couldn't tell who was on his side.

Then he recognized Spark, fighting talon-to-talon with a familiarly spiky dragon. He leapt to interfere. "Stop, Spark! He's on our side!"

Spark looked at him incredulously, glanced back at Cornice, and then backed off, leaping at what might have been a SandWing instead.

"Thanks," grunted Cornice. His scales, glittering in the faint light, were covered with blood, but Ozone couldn't tell if it was his own blue or the enemy's crimson.

There was another blast of fire, and they turned hurriedly to see Gale, a whirling ball of fury, taking on dragons who were attacking her from all sides.

Ozone and Cornice hurriedly leapt to pull some of them off of her.

Ozone felt stronger with chill of Cornice's scales beside him; as he fought mostly defensively, the IceWing ducked and twisted and lashed out with amazing speed. The crowd around Gale dispersed, doing their best to avoid the white dragon's assault.

"Get behind me!" Cornice called sharply. "Back-to-back!"

Ozone leapt to do as the IceWing instructed, turning until he felt Cornice's cold spikes pressed against his back. Together, they lashed out at any dragon who got close, defending each other from the enemy's attempts to attack from behind. Ozone exhaled bursts of flame whenever he had the breath to, slowly making sense of which way he was facing—inward—and how many dragons they were fighting against—at least ten.

"We need to push them in your direction," he told Cornice, in between strikes at their opponents. "We have to get them to the entranceway, where there's daylight!"

Cornice inhaled sharply, realizing what he meant. These dragons clearly didn't want to be seen. If the SkyWings and Cornice forced them into the open, where their identities would be revealed, they might flee even without being physically defeated.

That was Ozone's only hope. There was no other way to win this.

Even if they flew as quickly as they could, it would still take much too long for Sard to return with Claret, Ridge, and Buzzard. Had whoever was attacking their base known somehow that their strongest dragons would be gone today? That didn't seem possible. The only dragon he'd told about the mission was Cornice—

Ozone winced as his strike missed and one of the invading dragons hit back. Like usual, he wasn't concentrating, and in battle the consequences could be much worse.

 _Focus now, think later,_ he told himself.

Cornice had begun advancing on his opponents, and Ozone backed up so that any space between their spines would be too small for an enemy to get in and divide them.

Slowly, steadily, they continued moving. _It's working. My plan is working._

One of their enemies inhaled sharply, realizing what was happening. The dragon suddenly leapt into the air, vaulting over Ozone and Cornice while narrowly avoiding the ceiling. "We can't let them trap any of us inside!"

 _Oh, right,_ thought Ozone stupidly. _We should probably try to take a prisoner._

No, that wasn't important—it would be a miracle if they even managed to survive.

Deeper inside the cave, there was a roar of pain, so loud that it seemed to shake the stone all around them. Ozone's heart leapt into his throat. He wanted to run over and make sure it wasn't Gale or Spark, but he couldn't abandon Cornice.

The IceWing seemed to sense his indecision. "Stay with me, Ozone! We have to finish this!" He hissed in pain as one of their enemies landed a ferocious attack.

Shaking with fear, Ozone continued to fight back-to-back with the IceWing. _He's right. We have to—we have to finish this._ He landed strike after strike, his mind fading into a world where there was only motion. No sound, no thoughts, only his attacks and the enemy's. He barely even felt the sting of his wounds.

He couldn't tell how much time was passing, only that he was still standing, still fighting, and Cornice was still behind him. That was all that seemed to matter.

And then the numbness was shattered as one of the enemy dragons made an odd clicking noise in the back of their throat. It had to have been a signal, because all at once dragons were rushing past him in blurs of scales and wings, and the hallway was flooded with new plumes of smoke. Ozone gagged as the smell of ash and blood overwhelmed him, hitting him with a force that felt almost physical.

And then their attackers were gone.

"We did it," said Cornice, his voice ragged with grim satisfaction. "We won!"

"I g-guess we did," Ozone replied. His voice sounded slightly slurred even to his own ears. "But we need to get out there—we need to see them fly away."

The IceWing reached out to stop him as he stumbled forward on shaking legs. "It's all right, Ozone. _Ozone._ You've done enough. And I saw some of them—enough to recognize who they are. I'll tell your fellow soldiers everything I know."

The hallway was illuminated by orange light as someone relit the torches. It was Gale, wading toward them through the smoke. Her face was set in a grim mask.

"How about you start with who you are, and how you know Ozone?" she growled, glaring at Cornice with a ferocity that Ozone was all too familiar with. "And why you led those dragons straight to our base?"


	21. Chapter 20

"He didn't," blurted out Ozone, stepping in front of Cornice as if he could protect him from Gale's hostility. "At least, I don't think he did. He was trying to warn us."

 _He's definitely on our side… right?_ He glanced back anxiously at his friend. He didn't think his heart would be able to take it if Cornice turned out to be an enemy. Not after Claret and the others had gone to Possibility to investigate the potential crimes Jackal might be committing. Whatever it looked like to Gale, he couldn't bring himself to mistrust Cornice. He couldn't let go of the connection that had formed between them. _Please let me be placing my faith in the right dragon this time._

She snorted skeptically. "Maybe that's what you believe."

There was a moment of tense silence.

Then the IceWing ducked under Ozone's wing, presenting himself to Gale with a short bow. "I'm Cornice, formerly a dragon of the Third Circle. I left my tribe and was only intending to pass through your kingdom when a storm hit, injuring my wing and leaving me unable to fly. Ozone has been helping me recover. I mean no disrespect or harm to you or your tribe, nor did Ozone intend to be disloyal by giving me aid."

Ozone stared at his friend as if the other dragon had suddenly sprouted feathers. He'd had no idea Cornice was capable of such formality and politeness.

Gale glowered at Cornice. "How long have you been rehearsing that story?"

The snowy white dragon met her burning gaze calmly, keeping his spikes flat to look unthreatening. Unfortunately, the red blood splattered across his claws and scales didn't help that attempt. "Ever since the storm, actually. I knew it wouldn't look good if you discovered me living close to your base. But it's all true."

The two dragons stared at each other for a long moment. It was broken only by a groaning sound from further down the hallway.

Ozone craned his neck to look past Gale. "What's going on?"

Her angry expression shifted to a worried one. "I don't know. Is that Spark?"

Giving Cornice a quick glance, she seemed to decide that the sound was a bigger cause for concern than his presence, at least at the moment. "IceWing, come with us. I don't have time to interrogate you further right now. But I will later."

"Noted," he said. Ozone noticed him grimace slightly, but other than that, there was no hint of emotion written across his face or in his tone of voice. In the moments since the battle had ended, Cornice had put that mask on again, the one he'd worn the first time he'd met Ozone. Being caught and mistrusted by the SkyWings seemed to be having no effect on the IceWing whatsoever.

But he had to be feeling something, didn't he? Ozone had no idea what was going on beneath the surface. It was like there was nothing there at all.

Gale suddenly gasped, and the sound was so unlike her that it made Ozone jump. He blinked back to the present and saw that they'd reached Spark's side. The old solider was bleeding profusely from the shoulder of one wing—the limb itself had been twisted at some unnatural angle far worse than the dislocation Cornice had sustained. The membrane looked as if it were a few scales short of being torn away completely.

For a moment, all Ozone could do was stare.

"Hurry!" said Gale, hitting him with her tail. Her claws were pressed against the wound, and Ozone realized with a start that he hadn't even seen her move. He'd been too stunned by the horrific scene in front of him. "Get me some bandages!"

He stumbled backwards, almost tripping over his own tail, before turning and fleeing along the tunnel, towards the room where some rational part of his overloaded brain knew Spark kept the medical supplies. He fumbled for one of the first aid kits, trying to focus on what was happening instead of flashing back to the day he'd taken one for Cornice and wishing that today and the day before and every moment since he'd gone to Possibility had been some kind of cruel nightmare.

 _Focus,_ he told himself. _Focus, you worthless soldier!_

Grabbing a first aid kit, he ran back to the cavern where Spark had fallen. To his relief, the old SkyWing still seemed conscious, even though his eyes were glazed with an agony that was almost physically painful to look at.

"I'll be all right," the soldier grunted, though the effort clearly pained him. "I haven't fought in the war only to die at the claws of some cowardly invaders."

"With all due respect," said Gale, in as polite of a tone as she could muster, "shut up. Don't waste your energy trying to talk. Just try to stay awake."

"Hmph," said Spark. "Dragonets these days…"

Not trusting the steadiness of his own talons, Ozone passed the pack of bandages to Gale. She talked to him as she wrapped them around Spark's wing, though he wasn't sure if that was more for his benefit or her own. "I'm going to do my best to stop the bleeding, but that's all I can do. I don't know if I'll be able to save his wing. I don't even know where to start treating an injury like this."

"Can I help?" asked Cornice, edging tentatively past her. When Gale didn't snarl at him or push him back, he exhaled a small stream of frost onto the wound. "Putting ice on it will numb the pain, and keep the wound clean."

She nodded. "Good."

It seemed surreal—actually working together with Gale, seeing her interact with Cornice. _Three moons, I wish this was just a dream._

"Can _I_ help?" asked Ozone. _I should do something. Why am I never helpful?_

Gale nodded again without averting her eyes from her work. "Get more bandages for me. I don't think these will be enough. Bring as many as you can carry. Please."

Now, of all times, she was actually treating him like a real dragon, but that hardly mattered to him now. He raced off to collect more first aid kits.

When he got back, Cornice was staring off into space, his tail tapping worriedly against the floor of the cave. Ozone stood next to Gale, passing her whatever she asked for, and then turned to his friend. "What is it?"

Cornice blinked back into focus. "What?"

Had Ozone imagined it? "You looked kind of worried."

Cornice bowed his head, his eyes shadowed. For a moment, it seemed like he wasn't going to respond, but then he said, "Like I said before, I was able to glimpse some of the dragons who attacked your base. They came to the cave where I've been living to go over their plan one more time before they attacked. I think they've been using the cave since before I ever came here, which seems to indicate that they've been hunting for your base for a long time. But I don't know why they wanted to attack you."

"Oh." It was the only way he could think to respond. This had definitely been a premeditated attack, so Cornice's words didn't have much of an impact on him.

Ozone was surprised to realize that he'd barely questioned the motive, after what had just happened. Some part of him seemed to be subconsciously think that everything would be all right because Claret would be back soon, and Claret had always defended her troops no matter what happened.

 _But she's not all-powerful,_ he realized. _I can't rely on her for everything._

"Ozone," said Cornice, bringing his attention back into focus. "I don't know how to tell you this, but I think they were your friends."

Ozone stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that the dragons who attacked you were your SandWing friends and their non-history club," said Cornice. "I definitely saw Rockslide there. And there was a mottled dragon who the others were calling Jack."

 _Jack. Jackal._ Ozone couldn't breathe. "No. That can't be true."

Jackal was Ozone's friend, the only dragon who had ever understood him. Jackal wouldn't just turn on him like that, with no explanation and no warning.

If Jackal had truly been one of the dragons who'd attacked them, and Rockslide had been another, did that mean that Tumbleweed and Kulta were part of this too? Yes, they seemed to have no respect whatsoever for authority, and yes, they were most likely up to something illegal, but he couldn't accept that the SandWings would've done something like this to him. _They're my friends._

He remembered what Tumbleweed had said about Barracuda in Possibility. _I've got her back. That's what you do for your friends, isn't it?_

He should defend Jackal and the other SandWings—he knew they'd do the same for him. And even if they were planning something illegal, it wouldn't be something this horrible, would it? They wouldn't attack a dragon they'd just been smiling and laughing with only the day before. _They're my friends. I should believe in them._

 _But Cornice is my friend, too,_ Ozone thought. _He wouldn't lie to me._

Cornice's expression was as gentle as he had ever seen it. "I know you don't want to believe it, but that doesn't change the fact that it's true. There were SandWings and SkyWings and MudWings and SeaWings. That sounds exactly like the group you were describing to me after you came back from Possibility."

Gale had apparently been listening, because without averting her gaze from what she was doing, she said sharply, "Ozone, have you been telling this IceWing everything that's been happening around here since you met him?"

"Well, yes…" he admitted. "But he's trustworthy. I _promise_."

"That's what you thought about those SandWings, too," she retorted, "no matter what anyone else said about them. I don't exactly trust your judgment."

Ozone hung his head, ashamed.

She was right. There was nothing he could say in his defense.

"In this case, it's true," said Cornice. "I am trustworthy. I didn't tell anyone any of the things Ozone told me. I swear it to the Great Ice Dragon."

"Even if that's true, that doesn't entirely absolve Ozone of his guilt," Gale pointed out. She didn't even sound hostile, just grimly matter-of-fact. "Ozone, when you spoke these things aloud, it doesn't matter who you were talking to. There's no way you can guarantee that no one besides Cornice heard what you were saying. Even if both of you had only the best intentions, you could have been the leak that allowed the invaders to find our base. And that could be considered treason."

Ozone had never felt worse about himself than he did at that moment.

"I messed up," he said. "I messed up so badly."

"Yes, you did," said Gale. "When Claret returns, I suggest you tell her everything and beg for mercy. But I doubt you'll be her favorite for much longer."

So that was the reason she wasn't being hostile towards him about this.

Ozone wondered if deep down, Gale felt some kind of vindictive satisfaction. In her eyes, this day—the day Ozone messed up so badly that even Claret probably wouldn't forgive him—had probably been a long time coming.

Feelings couldn't be controlled, though, and even if they could've been, he didn't think he'd be able to find it in himself to blame her.

"Try not to move, Spark," Gale said, stepping away from the old SkyWing. She'd plastered bandages all over his wing and side, so that there was more cloth than scales visible in that area. "I think that'll keep any more blood from oozing out, but not if you start trying to stand or move or even sigh too hard."

"Understood," Spark rumbled. His eyes had slid shut, but he was still conscious, and his breathing seemed steady enough. Gale felt his pulse and nodded, satisfied.

"Now," she said, turning to Cornice. "It's interrogation time."

"I don't want to make trouble," he told her calmly. "I'll answer anything you ask as thoroughly as I can. And I'll swear on anything you want me to that it's the truth."

"Your life," she said. "You're going to swear it on your life, because if you're lying to me, I'll kill you myself. That's only fair, don't you think?"

Ozone winced, but Cornice only nodded.

"Where have you been staying?" Gale asked.

"In a small cave further along the gorge," the white dragon answered. "I thought it had been used in passing and then abandoned, since there was a piece of wood inside when I first settled there. However, your attackers gathered in the cave to review their plan just before ambushing your base, and that was when I saw them. I then realized that they were probably the previous inhabitants of the cave. They could have used it as their own temporary base while searching for yours. I suppose that after they failed to find it, they returned home and decided to try a different strategy."

He turned to Ozone, thoughts flickering behind his sky blue eyes as he put the pieces together. "That strategy was probably to pry the information they needed out of you, an unwitting SkyWing soldier. When you first met the SandWings, they connected with you as fellow soldiers-in-training. After exchanging letters with you, trying to find out if you'd help them voluntarily, Jackal decided to meet with you in Possibility, where he was intending to share his plan with you."

 _So they planned it all along,_ thought Ozone, his heart aching with betrayal. _They never really cared about me at all, did they? Did all those letters we exchanged mean nothing to Jackal? Were they just manipulating me that whole time?_

Cornice paused, thinking, and then seemed to reach some kind of conclusion. "However, he deemed you unusable, and instead probably sent someone—most likely Rockslide, who I saw flying overhead one day and mistook for a SkyWing soldier—to tail you. When you returned to your base from Possibility, Rockslide followed you back, and was able to identify the location of the base. That was how they found you."

Gale narrowed her eyes. "That does sound plausible. But you managed to put all that together rather quickly. Why should I believe you aren't spying for them?"

"I fought alongside you in the battle," said the white dragon. "And as you can see, I sustained wounds helping you. I wouldn't have been fighting for my life if I was truly allied with the dragons who attacked your base."

"I suppose you have a point," Gale conceded, flicking her tail. "And after Ozone's supposed friends already betrayed him once, they could hardly bet on being able to trick him a second time. He'd undoubtedly question everyone close to him if he had even half a brain in his skull—though for the record, I'm not entirely convinced he does."

"That's true," Ozone said weakly. "I _have_ been questioning everything."

 _They were probably acting like they understood me just so they could get close to me,_ he thought. _The Jackal I know might not even be real. The utopian dream he claimed to have for Pyrrhia—it's probably just another lie…_

"The only thing I don't understand is the motive," said Cornice, frowning. "I get that they've been planning to eliminate you for a long time, but I don't know why."

Gale grunted. "It could be anything, really. We don't know enough."

It suddenly struck Ozone like a bolt of lightning. "I think I do."

Both of them turned to him, startled.

"When I came back from Possibility," he said slowly, "I told Claret about three things that were worrying me. Those three things were Barracuda's weaponized jewelry, Jackal's not-really-history group that he was lying about, and the Tribeless. But what if we made the wrong assumption from the start?"

Cornice's eyes widened as he realized what Ozone meant.

"What if Jackal's group _is_ the Tribeless?" they said together.

Gale's yellow eyes blazed as she looked back and forth between them. "What?"

"Think about it!" said Ozone, not sure if he felt more exhilarated or terrified by the realization that was plowing into him with the force of a landslide. "The Tribeless is a group formed by dragons from multiple tribes, and the leader is a SandWing. Jackal's group is formed by dragons from multiple tribes, and Jackal is a SandWing. Three moons... Three moons! He must be the heir of Famine and Queen Rain Shadow. He's too young to be their son, but what if he's their grandson?"

Cornice looked stunned, but Gale was shaking her head.

"That seems too convenient to be true. Do you have any other proof?"

"Yes," said Ozone, the memories of every letter he'd gotten from Jackal running through his mind. "He wrote to me once mentioning a utopian dream he and Kulta had for Pyrrhia. And in that same letter, he said something about finding it absurd that we only trained with dragons who look like us and have the same skills as us. So he wants the tribe boundaries to disappear. And the same thing is right there in the name of the Tribeless. They want to tear down the tribe system." His mind was racing. "Puddle… Puddle warned me to stay away from the Tribeless, and she told me to warn Jackal too. She's the one who got it in my head that the two groups were separate. But she might not have known that Jackal's their leader—after all, she just heard rumors."

"Or she might even be part of it," pointed out Gale. "But still, why were they so determined to attack us? That seems stupid, when we're only one base, with only seven dragons. It's not like they'd make any actual change that way."

"They're terrorists," Cornice jumped in. "They just want anarchy, in the hopes that they can rebuild our society from the ashes up in a second Scorching. If they have enough dragons to overwhelm your base, they're going to want to shut it down."

"Three moons," said Ozone. "We have to tell Claret as soon as she gets back."

At that moment, they heard wingbeats echoing through the tunnels. Ozone froze at first, thinking that their attackers were returning, but then the dragons came running inside, and he recognized the familiar hues of Buzzard and Sard and Ridge and Claret. He would've broken down crying right then and there, he was so grateful to see them again, if not for the urgency of what he needed to tell them.

Claret and the others looked unsurprised by their injuries—Sard had told them about the attack—but they did a double take as they spotted Cornice in the middle of their cave, glistening frostily in the firelight.

Buzzard opened his jaws, hissing up fire. "Intruder!"

Gale threw her wing out in front of him. "No, stop! The IceWing isn't important right now. I'm going to explain his presence in a moment. Actually, Ozone is." She turned to him and nodded, her expression grim. "Ozone is going to tell you everything."


	22. Chapter 21

Ozone started to speak, slowly at first and then more quickly as he fell into stride, vocalizing the ideas bouncing around in his still-reeling mind. He knew what he had to say, and so he said it, but his mind blanked out as he shaped the story, and if he had been asked to repeat anything word for word, he wouldn't have been able to.

He told his fellow soldiers about the day of the storm, when he'd gone flying in the rain and met Cornice, who'd been injured. He told them how he'd decided to heal Cornice, how he'd gotten to know the IceWing over time and had begun to think of him as a friend. He told them how he'd shared details about his life with Cornice, knowing that he didn't mean Ozone's tribe any harm. He told them about the cave, which he and Cornice had assumed was abandoned but had now figured out was a meeting place for their attackers, who were likely members of the Tribeless. He told them how Cornice had seen some of those dragons and that some of them had been his friends.

He then mustered up every memory he could think of related to Jackal and the others and described them in detail, including the letter which held the clues to Jackal's group's true identity. He told them how Puddle's choice of words had made him assume that Jackal's group was separate from the Tribeless, when in reality they were most likely one and the same. He confessed that he hadn't realized the danger behind the SandWings' ideas, words and actions, and that he'd been too blind to even consider that Jackal could be the rumored offspring of Famine.

He told them about the battle that had unfolded in their base, how Cornice had seen the invaders and flown immediately to the base to warn him. Ozone explained that the IceWing had fought alongside them, and that he and Cornice had managed to drive their attackers back to the base's entrance, where the Tribeless had retreated rather than let their identities be discovered. He described how Spark had been injured and how Gale had confronted Cornice and how they had put the whole story together.

Ozone looked at the ground as he spoke, too ashamed to look at his friends and too scared to look at Claret. None of the dragons around him interrupted even once. He wasn't sure whether they were shocked by the revelations unfolding in front of them or if they were furious beyond words or if they knew that if Ozone stopped speaking, he'd lose the will to keep going. The fact that Gale and Cornice remained silent as well told him that for once, he hadn't accidentally forgotten anything. It seemed that his friends' betrayal had seared all the memories into his brain like a hot iron.

Finally, he reached the end of his story. He fell silent, feeling exhausted from the effort of first the battle and then unloading all his memories and his guilt in a torrent of words. Once he allowed himself to feel that exhaustion, the pain followed.

His body stung all over with numerous cuts, the inside of his throat felt scratchy from all the smoke he'd breathed in, and his neck ached with quickly-forming bruises from when he'd nearly been choked to death. He felt a pressure beating inside his skull, as if some part of his brain was trying to escape its bone prison. All Ozone wanted to do was go to his cave and sleep away his pain and worries, but he knew that he couldn't.

First, he had to face Claret's judgment.

"Is that everything?" she asked. Her voice had no anger or even disappointment in it. It was just calm, and somehow that was even more frightening.

"I think so," Ozone said honestly. After everything, he didn't have the confidence for a more absolute answer. He wasn't absolutely sure of anything anymore.

Claret's yellow gaze slid to Gale, who nodded. "That's everything we figured out."

"Ozone," said his commander, and then stopped. It was the first time he had ever seen her at a loss for words like this. "Do you understand what you've done?"

He tried to answer and found that he couldn't. He bowed his head.

"I know you didn't mean to bring this upon us," she went on, her voice deep with severity. "But that doesn't change the fact that you did. You've placed your trust in the wrong dragons, and with that trust, knowledge with the power to destroy you. It turned out that one of those dragons—Cornice the IceWing—was indeed an ally, but you did not confirm that before telling him dangerous information. That information was overheard by our enemies. You revealed information outside of a safe area, to a dragon who had not yet been deemed trustworthy. That is a serious violation that I cannot overlook."

Ozone knew what was coming next. He could see it coming from a mile away. He had seen it coming long before this huge mess had even started. He just hadn't known it would be this serious, that his actions would ever cause so much damage to the dragons he cared about. He hadn't realized his actions actually mattered this much.

"Ozone, you've left me with no choice," said Claret. "Your behavior goes against the conduct expected of a SkyWing solider. I hereby expel you from the army."

"I understand," he said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

"You must leave this base before nightfall," his commander continued, her voice as hard as steel. "You are strictly prohibited from divulging any additional information about the location or functions of our base, an offense punishable by the full extent of SkyWing law. Starting tonight, if you are seen within a mile of the base, our soldiers will be commanded to attack you on sight. Do you understand?"

Fighting back tears, he nodded.

"Good," said Claret.

Ozone thought he glimpsed something like regret in her eyes, but he knew better than to beg for mercy. As far as punishments could have gone, this could be considered lenient. And she had warned him that he'd be expelled if he flew off during training. What he'd accidentally done was far worse than flying off.

"In the meantime," she went on. "Your every move will be monitored by Buzzard and Ridge." She glanced at the two dragonets, who nodded. "They will report you if you try to do anything that could be considered suspicious."

She turned to Cornice. "Cornice, you will be pardoned for trespassing because you came through for us in our time of need. However, you must also leave by nightfall, with the same restrictions on your actions going forward from here. If you spread any kind of information about our base, or try to return, you will be judged under SkyWing law as a spy for the IceWings. Is that clear?"

"Yes," said Cornice, bowing his head respectfully. "Thank you."

Claret nodded. "I will contact Queen Ibex and inform her what has occurred here today. Most likely, the base will be relocated to a more secure location, and the SkyWing military will begin preparations for a state of war."

"War?" echoed Ozone, shocked. The battle had been terrifying, but the Tribeless were terrorists, not an opposing tribe or army. There was no one to declare war against, really, other than the ideas their attackers stood for, and even then, that didn't feel like a true solution. The concepts of an elected ruler and one unified tribe hadn't lost their appeal to Ozone just because the dragons fighting for those ideas were extremists.

Claret narrowed her eyes. "We have been attacked today without warning, by an unidentified group of dragons. You have a solid theory, but it's far from confirmed. We do not know the scale, nor the true nature, of the intruders' plan. The whole kingdom must be notified and prepared for any similar attacks."

"That makes sense," he had to admit.

"Good," said the burgundy dragon, straightening up as if taking on a new burden. "Now, I can't tell you anything else. That's classified information, and you're no longer approved to hear it. Please gather anything you want to bring with you and depart from this base. Goodbye, Ozone. I wish you luck."

Bowing his head to express all the gratitude he'd never found the words for, he turned and walked off down the tunnel back to his cave. Buzzard and Ridge flanked him on either side. The pale orange dragonet walked rigidly beside him, as if Ozone were a stranger, but he felt Ridge nudge his wing with silent sympathy. He glanced up at them, taking note of Buzzard's smoldering hostility and Ridge's disappointment.

Ozone didn't have many material possessions, apart from a few small objects he'd collected for their beauty. He didn't have a pouch to carry them in, so he wrapped them carefully in a piece of cloth and held it with one set of talons. That taken care of, he took a single cloak for warmth and decided to head out before he lost his resolve.

"Take care," said Ridge, quietly.

"Don't come back," growled Buzzard.

On Ozone's way back to the entrance cave, he encountered Sard, who canted her wings away from him and said nothing as she stepped aside to let him past.

He took a step forward, hesitated, and then turned to face her. Even though they weren't on speaking terms, this might be the last time he ever saw her. "I just wanted to thank you," he told her. "For being my friend through all our training together. I know I'm not the easiest dragon to be friends with."

Sard looked away silently. It seemed like she wasn't going to respond.

Feeling awkward, Ozone nodded and ducked his head, turning to leave.

Then Sard spoke. "It feels like I never really knew you at all."

Ozone couldn't muster the strength to look back at her again. There was nothing he could think to say, other than _I know_ or _You probably never did,_ so he stayed silent. He'd said everything he needed to, save one last thing. "Goodbye, Sard."

"Goodbye," she said, so softly he wasn't sure if he'd imagined it.

He kept going until he reached the entrance hall, where Cornice was waiting for him. The white dragon looked at him for a long moment and then extended one wing towards him. Ozone brushed it with his own, taking strength from the silent offering of support from the one dragon who was still his friend. An unspoken agreement hovered in the still-smoky air between them—wherever they went now, they'd go together.

Ozone heard voices from further along the tunnel—Claret, speaking softly as she checked Spark's bandages. She might not be as powerful as he'd thought she was, but she was still strong enough to lead them through this. He had to believe they'd be all right.

 _Goodbye, Claret,_ he told her silently. _Thank you for everything._

He took a deep breath. Leaving the time he'd spent here behind wouldn't be easy. How would he explain all this to his mother, who'd urged him to become a solider so he could do something important with his life?

 _I guess I'll just take it one step at a time,_ he thought. _I always thought that I had to worry about the future all the time, about how dragons would react to everything I said and did, before the present caught up. But maybe what I really need to do is focus on the moment, on what I'm doing here and now._

He opened his eyes and gazed down at his claws, which were clutching the cloak and the handful of items he'd decided to bring with him. They looked different now that they'd been through battle, scuffed and blunted against scales and stone.

 _Maybe I need to worry less and actually do more,_ he realized. _Maybe I need to be less a shadow of a dragon and more flesh and blood and bone._

 _Maybe that's what I've been doing wrong all this time._

"Are you ready, Cornice?" he asked, glancing back at his friend.

The IceWing nodded.

Together they spread their wings and leapt into the sunset-painted sky.

 **END of PART 1**

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 **AN: We made it to the end of Part 1! Thank you for staying with me the whole way!**

 **Just to let you know, I'm going to be changing the summary a little (just making it a bit less vague) to mark the beginning of Part 2 and more accurately represent the story going forward. So if you usually identify this story by its summary, just be aware of that! I might also be putting up a new poll soon, so keep an eye out for that on my profile! Thanks again for reading and see you next time!**


	23. Chapter 22

**AN: I'm sorry about the delay! Real life obligations have become a black hole that sucks in all the time I used to spend working on my weekly updates. Thank you all for your patience!** **I can't promise I'll be able to wrestle my usual update day back into my schedule, but I've already started the next chapter and am hoping to get it up as soon as possible. There might also be a few delays from here on out as I dig a little deeper into my mental outline for the story, since Part Two has been kind of a nebulous cloud of vague ideas unlike the concrete timeline I had for Part One. Now that I'm here, I have to make sure that cloud actually turns into something.**

 **Anyways, I'll stop rambling now. As always, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Cornice and Ozone flew in silence for a while.

Cornice glanced sideways at his companion, but the SkyWing's gaze was focused on something very far away.

They didn't seem to be flying in any particular direction, so Cornice quietly took the lead, angling his wings to fly in front of the red-and-gold dragon. It took more effort than usual since his friend was a SkyWing, meaning he naturally flew a little faster, but Ozone didn't seem to notice.

Cornice figured that Ozone was still upset over being expelled from the army, and that it would be best to give him time to internalize the change and really accept it. The IceWing been trying his best to be sympathetic instead of following the typical tribe guidelines and giving Ozone a speech about why he should just get over it. He was fairly confident that he was more successful than he had been last time. Then again, it would be more difficult to not empathize with Ozone when Cornice had just lost his own home only a few weeks ago. At least with Cornice it had been his own choice.

Ozone had accepted his punishment with a quiet dignity that impressed Cornice. He hadn't protested or pleaded or tried to make excuses. He'd only bowed his head and said, "I understand." That reaction was one any IceWing would respect.

So Cornice let Ozone retreat into his own mind for a while, leading the way back to the lake he'd found only a few days ago. It wasn't quite as good as snow, but it would still be an acceptable place for them to clean their wounds from the battle against the Tribeless. Thankfully, Cornice had gotten through with only a few deep scratches, but Ozone had ended up more battered and bruised. Both dragons were covered with dried blood and ash from all the smoke that had filled the tunnel.

"Where are we going?" Ozone asked, after some time had passed. His voice was heavy and slow, as if the words took more effort than they should.

Cornice twisted around to look back at his friend. "Is that even a question?"

The SkyWing blinked, coming back into clearer focus. "What do you mean?"

"I thought it was obvious," said Cornice. "We're going to the lake to wash off, and then to my cave to get something I left there, and then we're going to Possibility."

"Possibility?" Ozone echoed slowly. "That seems like a bad idea."

"Why?" asked the white dragon.

"Because we know that's where the Tribeless usually meet up."

Cornice paused for a moment, letting that sink in. "Exactly."

Ozone simply stared at him for a long moment.

"Don't you want to find out exactly what they're up to?" Cornice asked. "Aren't you hurt or upset or angry that they got you kicked out of the army? Don't you want to take the investigation into your own claws? And by the three moons, Ozone, we don't have anything else to do. We might as well be useful somehow."

The SkyWing considered this, his orange eyes thoughtful.

"Yes," he said at last. "Let's do it."

Cornice flew in an excited circle around his friend. "That's the spirit!"

Ozone gave him a tired-looking smile in response.

Cornice should have been equally exhausted, considering that they'd just been in battle, but his entire body hummed with renewed energy. He'd been itching to have a sense of purpose again. After living in the Ice Kingdom for nearly seven years, where he'd focused solely on reaching the top of the dragonet rankings, he'd felt like he was wasting invaluable time sitting around in a cave just waiting to heal.

On one talon, he no longer had to worry about any kind of responsibility, so time didn't have much meaning anymore. He could do whatever he felt like doing, whenever he felt like doing it. The constant deadline of his seventh hatching day had vanished.

On the other talon, he'd had nothing to drive him forward. What was the point of being free to do what you wanted if there wasn't anything you really wanted to do?

But now he had a purpose again: investigating the Tribeless.

The group of rebels was dangerous, and by all logic he shouldn't have wanted to get involved. But Cornice was no longer living in the Ice Kingdom, where logic trumped everything else. He still wasn't sure if he could even be considered an IceWing anymore. For the very first time, he wasn't Cornice the IceWing, Cornice of the Third Circle, Cornice the Son of Sigma and Glissade. He was just Cornice.

And Cornice wanted to investigate the Tribeless, whether that was logical or not.

 _We'll figure out what they're up to and stop them ourselves,_ he thought. Taking down the rebels wasn't a two-dragon job, but someone had to start somewhere. He and Ozone would find support where they could. The important thing was that they weren't letting anyone else decide their path and their lives for them anymore.

It wasn't much longer before they reached the lake. Cornice parachuted his wings and plunged directly into the water, while Ozone landed at the edge of the lake instead, setting down his belongings carefully on the dry land.

When Cornice surfaced, he saw the SkyWing wade in, wincing a little as the chill of the water seeped into his sore muscles. Slowly, methodically, Ozone began scooping the water in his talons and rubbing it over his grimy scales.

Cornice scrubbed the ash and blood off his own scales more vigorously. Soon he was sparkling clean again, with only a few dark blue scratches breaking up the white of his scales. He dunked his head a few times to wash the hard-to-reach places between the spikes in his mane and along the back of his neck.

"Much better," he said aloud, when he'd finished.

Ozone was gingerly rubbing the ridge above his eye, where he'd sustained a nasty scratch. He had stopped when the water was barely up to his belly, and there was still dried blood clumped between the scales along his back.

"Getting wet is a necessary part of cleaning off blood," Cornice said, dragging his friend deeper into the water so that the SkyWing was submerged up to his neck.

"But it's cold," protested Ozone, shoving ineffectively at Cornice with his talons.

"So am I," said the white dragon, flicking his tail. "If you don't hurry up and get clean in the lake, I'm going to wash you off with my frost-breath instead."

"That's not very nice," said Ozone, but he obligingly twisted around to scrub the scales along his back. Cornice was pleased to see that the SkyWing seemed to be coming out of his shell-shocked daze, the brightness returning to his orange eyes.

While Ozone finished washing up, Cornice caught a couple of fish for them to eat. The two dragonets climbed out of the water just as the sun finished its descent beyond the horizon. Ozone was shivering, so Cornice gave him some space, not wanting the icy aura emanating from his scales to make the SkyWing feel even colder.

Cornice slit the fish open and began to eat it raw, while Ozone cooked his with a burst of flame before consuming it in a few hungry bites.

"What did you leave at the cave?" asked the SkyWing.

"Something," Cornice responded vaguely.

Ozone gave him a curious look.

"You'll see," he added enigmatically.

"All right," said the red-and-gold dragon. He clearly still wanted to know, but he wasn't going to ask repeatedly and risk nagging.

Cornice felt a rush of affection for his friend. Ozone's considerate nature was one of the things he liked most about the SkyWing.

Their bellies full and some of their energy restored, the dragonets took to the sky again, heading back to the valley. Cornice hoped Claret wouldn't enforce her attack-on-sight rule just yet; while Ozone's scales were largely obscured by the infringing darkness, his own glimmered brightly in the moonlight.

"We shouldn't risk staying at the cave overnight," he said to Ozone. "Not only is it the Tibeless's hideout, but we shouldn't linger this close to the SkyWing base."

"I agree," his friend replied, shivering slightly.

Cornice couldn't help feeling nervous as he landed in the entrance to the cave he had lived in for the past few weeks. Though he'd only seen the Tribeless here once, and knew that it was unlikely they'd return so soon, the place that had once sheltered him now made him feel vulnerable. He went in quickly, grabbed the pouch full of stones that he'd dropped in his rush to warn Ozone, and reemerged just as fast.

The SkyWing looked down at the pouch. "Is that everything?"

"Yes," said Cornice, nodding. He held it out to Ozone. "For you."

The other dragonet took it, opened it, and peered inside. It was too dark to see all the different colors, but the bits of crystal glittered in the moonlight.

"They're beautiful," said Ozone. "But… why did you…?"

"They're my thank you," he explained. "For helping me recover."

"You didn't have to," the SkyWing said. In the darkness, it was hard to tell, but it looked like he was blushing a little. He wouldn't meet Cornice's gaze.

"I know," responded Cornice. "But I wanted to."

"Thank you," Ozone said. "They really are beautiful."

"I didn't get to fill the pouch as much as I wanted to," said Cornice, "but it looks like that's a good thing. Now you can put the rest of your belongings in there too, so you don't need to worry about losing anything."

"Good idea," agreed Ozone, shifting the rest of the things he'd been holding into the pouch and then tying the straps around his neck. The pouch hung against his chest like an oddly-shaped necklace, bulging slightly with its contents. The nervous tension in his wings seemed to relax now that his belongings were safely contained.

"Are you okay with leading from here on out?" asked Cornice, trying to make out the shape of the mountains along the nearly-black skyline. IceWing eyes were meant to resist harsh light reflecting off ice and snow, not unravel deep darkness. Cornice could barely see Ozone like this, much less where they were going. "I, uh, can't really see well in this kind of darkness. I'm afraid I'd crash into something."

The words were almost painful to force out, but Cornice was glad he'd said them. He couldn't let his pride get in the way of safe traveling. He'd be much more of a burden if his wing gave out again than if he had to fly behind Ozone for a little while.

"I'll do my best to lead," Ozone said, seeming unfazed by Cornice's admission of weakness. "Will you be all right following me?"

"I think I'll be fine," the IceWing said cautiously. "I should be able to feel the air from your wings. Just maybe… fly sort of slowly. If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," Ozone reassured him.

Cornice let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks."

"I'd light a torch for you, too, but I'm afraid of attracting unwanted attention that way," his friend added. "The Tribeless might still be lurking around, and Claret warned us that she wouldn't be any more welcoming towards us."

Cornice glanced at him in surprise. It seemed Ozone had learned the hard way to be more aware of potential enemies. "Yeah, you're right. It's safer to be stealthy."

Having reached that agreement, the pair set off for Possibility.

Cornice flew close behind Ozone, trying not to feel apprehensive. He trusted the SkyWing, but it still felt wrong not to be able to see where he was going. The darkness seemed to press almost painfully on his eyes.

"Can I ask you a question?" Ozone said hesitantly, after they'd flown in silence for a while. The sudden sound made Cornice tense.

"You already did," the IceWing pointed out. "But you can ask another one."

"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to… but why did you leave the Ice Kingdom?" He paused apprehensively, and when Cornice didn't immediately answer, hurriedly added, "I know you didn't want to tell me when we first met. But we're friends now, aren't we? And I want to know more about you, Cornice."

That was true. But he was still too ashamed of his family's history to tell anyone. He was afraid he'd choke on the words. "Can I tell you a short version?"

"Of course," said Ozone, clearly relieved that the moment of awkwardness had passed.

"I didn't belong there anymore," Cornice told him, finding it easier to open up when he couldn't see his friend's face. It felt more like thinking out loud that way than like expressing weakness to another dragon. "I realized that my tribe's expectations of me were deliberately setting me up to fail. Our society's laws require an unblemished pedigree, which I don't have. And I'll never have that. It's out of my control."

Ozone was quiet for a long moment, processing this.

And then, "Is one of your parents a criminal or something?"

Cornice barked a surprised laugh. "Not exactly."

"And you're not a criminal either, right?"

Despite himself, Cornice was amused. "No, I'm not."

That was all he said on the matter, but Ozone didn't push him for anything more. The instinctive pressure of shame loosened its claws on Cornice's throat. And somehow, in some strange way, he felt a little better having laughed about it.

They traveled through most of the night in silence. By the time they caught sight of buildings on the horizon, the sky had lightened a few shades, and Cornice's eyes were released from the blinding pressure of darkness. He angled his wings to glide alongside Ozone, whose pace had slowed and whose eyes were dull with tiredness.

"I can take over from here," said Cornice.

Ozone nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

Cornice cast his gaze back down to the city they were approaching, looking for a good place to land. The crowd reminded him of Queen Nunatak's palace, actually, but the buildings and dragons were much more brightly-colored.

He felt a mixture of anger and grief at the realization that he missed it. He missed home.

As he and Ozone swooped down towards the arch of the entranceway, another dragon flying in accidentally collided with one taking off. Yellow and brown wings and tails tangled together for a moment before the dragons unraveled themselves.

"Watch where you're going, you moon-smashing idiot!" one of them roared.

"Keep your big ugly wings to yourself!" the other yelled back.

 _All right, maybe not so much like Queen Nunatak's palace._ Cornice was shocked by their rudeness for a moment, and then suddenly, strangely delighted.

"This place is amazing," he said to Ozone, looking around in awe at the chaos.

There were dragons shoving single-mindedly through the streets, dragons flying overhead and narrowly missing signposts, a group of dragonets weaving around older dragons' legs and generally making a nuisance of themselves. There were shopkeepers ringing bells to catch passersby's attention, others calling out about excellent, one-of-a-kind deals.

Ozone mumbled something inaudible that might've been agreement. Glancing at his friend, Cornice saw that he looked faintly overwhelmed.

"You've been here before," he said, lifting his wings around Ozone to block out some of the noise and unnecessary peripheral vision. "Do you know if there's anyplace quiet where we can rest for a little while?"

Ozone thought for a while and then nodded. "We could try the library."

Cornice nodded back. "Lead the way."

Ozone visibly balked a little at the thought of pushing his way through the crowd, but then steeled his expression and began his advance.

"I think there might be more shops in this one city than there are in the whole Ice Kingdom," commented Cornice, looking around in curiosity. "You must have barely scratched the surface when you came here the first time."

"Hmm," agreed Ozone, glancing back at him.

"Where did you go again?"

"We browsed a bunch of stores," the red-and-gold dragon responded. "Uh, there was one store that sold a bunch of fancy crystals, a potter's shop… fabrics, food vendors. Kulta went to the library, but the rest of us skipped it. There was also a fortune teller."

Cornice raised one eyebrow. "A real one?"

"I think so," said Ozone. "She was a NightWing, so it's definitely possible."

Cornice wrinkled his snout, not sure if he felt more skeptical or curious.

Ozone suddenly stopped short, and Cornice accidentally crashed into him.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked, irritated.

"Oh, sorry," said his friend, sounding more distracted than apologetic. "I was just thinking… about what the fortune teller told me."

"Well, can't you think and walk at the same time?"

Ozone ignored him. "She told me something like… ' _There may come a time when you no longer trust your own mind or your own heart. But know that you can always trust your acts of kindness and the friendships they have brought you._ '"

Cornice studied his expression, intrigued.

"I think… I think that's now," said Ozone, turning to look at him.

Just then, a dragon accidentally knocked into him with one massive wing, making Ozone stagger back a step. The passerby turned hurriedly to face them, apology in his dark eyes. As his gaze landed on Ozone, his expression turned to one of recognition.

"Oh, I remember you!" he said, pleasantly surprised. "Ozone, was it?"

"That's right," said the SkyWing, with a tentative smile. "And you're Loess."

"Also correct," said the dragon, whose tribe Cornice couldn't identify. His build was stocky and his snout flat, which seemed to fit the description of a MudWing. But his eyes were nearly black, not brown or yellow, and Cornice could feel dry heat, much more intense than Ozone's body temperature, emanating from his scales.

"Oh, and this is my friend, Cornice," Ozone said, gesturing to the IceWing.

"Nice to meet you." Loess turned to look at him with kind, curious eyes. "I didn't expect to see a pair of dragonets out at this hour; normally it's just shopkeepers getting ready to open their stores, workers changing shifts, and the like. The city may never sleep, but the dragons living in it still need to." He chuckled heartily.

There was something oddly attractive about this dragon's warmth. Even Cornice, who had a natural tendency towards surliness, was already beginning to like him.

"So what brings you here so early?" Loess asked, nudging Ozone's wing with his own. "The two of you look like you've been flying all night!"

"Uh, we have, actually," said Ozone.

Loess looked startled, then concerned. "Is something wrong?"

Ozone hesitated. "To make a long story short, I was kicked out of the SkyWing army. Cornice and I had nowhere to go, so we came here."

Loess looked from him to Cornice and back again, seeming to draw some kind of conclusion. "I'm sorry to hear that. Say, if you need some place to stay until you find your own, I have an extra room at my house. You'd be welcome to it."

Ozone perked up. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course," huffed the larger dragon. "If I didn't, I wouldn't've offered."

Ozone glanced at Cornice, who nodded in agreement. Loess seemed easygoing, and staying with him was a better option than bunking down in the library.

"Thank you," said Ozone. "We'd be very grateful to accept your hospitality."

"Come with me, then. I'll show you where it is before I go to the shop," said the tan dragon, beckoning with one wing. He turned and headed in the opposite direction from the way they'd been headed, wading purposefully through the crowd.

Ozone and Cornice hurried after him, jogging to keep up with his longer strides.

"How do you know him?" Cornice asked curiously, under his breath.

"He's a potter," responded Ozone, also speaking quietly. "We met when I came to Possibility with the SandWings. I'd never met a hybrid before, so I asked him about his life. We had an interesting conversation."

"Oh," said Cornice, glancing at the broad-shouldered dragon in front of them. No wonder he hadn't been able to tell what tribe Loess was from.

 _I'm stupid,_ he thought. _It's not like I've never seen a hybrid before._

He supposed it was easier to recognize a half-IceWing hybrid, though, than one made up of two completely separate tribes. Yesterday had been the first time he'd seen a SandWing, and if he'd encountered a MudWing in the battle, he hadn't recognized the dragon as such. _Three moons, it's been a long twenty-four hours._

Thankfully, it wasn't much longer before they reached Loess's house.

Built mostly of clay, it wasn't nearly as grand as even the lower-ranked IceWing palaces, but it looked much cozier than the cave Cornice had been staying in for the past few weeks. There was a smaller section attached to the main one, and it was here that Loess led the pair of worn out dragonets.

"Make yourselves comfortable," he said. "There's a decent-sized bed, and I've got a pile of blankets in the corner. The bathroom's around the back, and if you get hungry there might be some pheasant in the kitchen. If there's anything else you need, I'll show you where it is when I get back from work."

"Thank you again," said Ozone. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it," said the hybrid, and Cornice got the sense that he genuinely meant it. "It's the least I could do to show my support."

Cornice found the potter's words odd, frowning as he watched Loess lumber out the door. Then it hit him. _Does he think…?_

"Help me with the blankets?" asked Ozone, and Cornice shook off the thought.

The SkyWing and IceWing gathered blankets and pillows and arranged them in a comfortable fashion on the bed. Compared to the hard stone floor Cornice had grown accustomed to sleeping on, the soft wool felt luxurious.

The bed was small for two dragons, though, and it took a few moments for them to find a comfortable position—Cornice accidentally bumped his wing against Ozone's tail, and the SkyWing unintentionally kicked his nose. It was still a tight squeeze, but eventually they settled down, mostly comfortable even with Ozone's tail draped across Cornice's and one of Cornice's wings sticking out over the side of the bed.

Even the closeness to Ozone's warm scales wasn't enough to keep Cornice awake.

Content and finally feeling safe, he drifted off into the soft blackness of sleep.


	24. Chapter 23

**AN: This chapter did not turn out at all like I was expecting it to. I also proofread and posted it right after I finished writing, so I hope there aren't any mistakes that I could've caught with fresher eyes. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy!**

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Cornice was momentarily confused when he woke again, blinking blearily at the unfamiliar room that was now bathed in orange light. It took him a while to remember the events of the previous day and that he was in Possibility, with Ozone. Judging by the angle and hue of the sunlight streaming in, they had probably been sleeping for most of the day. And judging by how much better he felt, as he rubbed the lingering drowsiness from his eyes, that sleep seemed to have been much needed.

He yawned. "Ozone? Are you awake?"

The SkyWing didn't respond. His side rose and fell evenly against Cornice's back, and a whistling snore came from his nostrils (along with a thin trail of woodsy-smelling smoke). It seemed safe to assume that he was still asleep.

Cornice hopped off the bed as lightly as he could, trying not to disturb his friend. As he stretched his sleep-stiff limbs, he was reminded of mornings in the Ice Kingdom, the only time he was left alone in peaceful silence. For the first time, the memory of his previous life came with more nostalgia than stinging regret.

He padded tentatively into the main section of the house, wondering if Loess had returned, and found the potter at his stove, making something that smelled unfamiliar but delicious. Cornice's mouth watered. His stomach rumbled, suddenly aware that he hadn't eaten anything in days. Loess looked up and grinned.

"Oh, you're awake!" he said. "When I came home from work, the pair of you were still out like crocodiles in the sun. You must've been exhausted."

"It's like I'm a whole new dragon now," agreed Cornice, smiling back.

"Do you like soup?" asked Loess, gesturing to the food he was making.

"I've actually never tried it," Cornice admitted. "In the Ice Kingdom, we don't eat anything warm. There's no way to heat it up, really. It smells amazing, though."

Loess looked pleased. "Well, no time like the present to try something new, am I right? It's not quite ready yet, but it will be in a half hour or so."

"Thank you," said Cornice. "For everything."

"Don't mention it," said the older dragon, in a kind but firm voice. "We all need a helping hand every once in a while. Dragons aren't meant to be totally independent."

Cornice's family and every other IceWing he'd ever known would disagree, but he thought that Loess might have a point. Although he still didn't know much about other tribes, Cornice knew that the MudWing lifestyle was all about being part of a family that could trust and rely on each other. Where IceWings taught that an independent dragon was the only kind of strong dragon, MudWings instead taught interdependence between siblings. And despite his upbringing, Cornice had to admit that interdependence as its own kind of strength was a nice kind of idea to believe in.

He just wasn't sure he could ever believe it himself. He was afraid that some part of him would always be pushing him to see it as a weakness. The kind of thing that was okay for other dragons but never for himself.

He shook the thought away. "That's an interesting way to look at things."

Loess shrugged. "Well, looking at it any other way is a bit of a downer, no?"

"I guess that's true," said Cornice, feeling mystified. The way Loess had phrased it made it sound like he chose to look at things the way he wanted to see them instead of at what the facts suggested. That idea seemed kind of outrageous to Cornice, although he did notice that the hybrid potter seemed comfortable in his own mindset, in a way that Cornice himself was not. But was choosing to prioritize optimism over logic really the key to being happier? Could you consciously choose your own happiness?

Loess was studying him with curious dark eyes. "I can see that you're thinking deeply about this. Is it really such a new ideology for you?"

Cornice nodded. "I've never even left the Ice Kingdom until a month ago. I guess living so far from any of the other tribes keeps us more isolated than I realized. We do learn a bit about other kinds of dragons, but we never see them. It's not like Possibility. In fact, it's probably the complete opposite of Possibility."

"Hmm," said Loess. "Then perhaps you are the dragon most unlike me I've ever met. And yet you find my philosophy interesting rather than off-putting."

"Well," said the white dragon, "I'm not really like the other IceWings."

"I think that goes without saying," Loess responded. "You're here, and they are not. Something brought you here, away from the other IceWings. Maybe it was chance, or fate, or maybe even a conscious decision, but it was also something inside of you."

Cornice wasn't sure he completely understood what the MudWing-SandWing was saying, but it struck him as somewhat like the question he'd been asking himself since he left the Ice Kingdom. Was he still an IceWing?

And if he was in fact no longer an IceWing, he had a feeling it was not because he had decided to leave or because he had come to resent his parents. If he was not an IceWing, then he probably never had been. It was something he'd hatched with that had shaped him into the rebellious dragon he'd become.

"Can I ask you a sort of personal question?" he asked.

"I can't promise I'll answer it, but ask away," said the potter.

"Do you consider yourself a MudWing or a SandWing?"

Loess didn't answer right away. Cornice wasn't sure he was planning to respond at all. At last, he said slowly, "To be perfectly honest, I don't know if it really matters. I can think of myself as one or the other or both or neither, but all of those answers imply, to me, a sense of not belonging. I guess my answer is that I am Loess. When you look at me, you see something that is not quite a SandWing or a MudWing but entirely myself. I was not born to either tribe, but even then, I would not label myself as one thing."

He paused, searching for the right words, and then continued. "Perhaps this is because I live surrounded by dragons who have never lived with their tribes, but I do not necessarily see an IceWing and a SkyWing as two different kinds of dragons. The way I see it, dragons like yourself and Ozone, for example, are the same kind of dragon. You both consider yourself different from your tribes, and you are both deeply thoughtful dragons. It is fine to call yourself an IceWing or a SkyWing if that is what you wish, but the color of your scales and the powers you possess are not all there is to you."

Cornice didn't respond immediately. He couldn't think of the words to respond with. All he knew was that what Loess had said was an idea he never could have thought of on his own, but he couldn't deny that it had some truth in it.

It actually had a lot of truth in it.

"Does that answer your question?" asked Loess.

"It does," said Cornice. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"I'm glad you understand," said the potter, nodding in deep respect. He looked at the soup he was making, tasted a spoonful, and nodded again, this time in satisfaction. "Soup's ready. Perhaps you'd better wake Ozone so he can eat it while it's hot."

Cornice nodded. He turned and headed back where he'd come from, still mulling over the wisdom Loess had imparted on him. Maybe it didn't matter whether he acted the way an IceWing was expected to behave. After all, IceWing was just a word. It had meaning, but perhaps that meaning was in the same sense as any other descriptive word or phrase. It described him, but it was not his entire essence.

 _I am an IceWing in the same way that I am white,_ he thought. _It describes me, but it does not equal me. White is not all I am. And an IceWing is not all I need to be._

When he went back to the side room, Ozone appeared to have just woken up. He rolled over to face the door as Cornice came in, jaws parting in a big yawn. "Oh, you're back. I had a kind of nice dream I wanted to tell you about."

"Oh?" said Cornice, curious and in good spirits. "What about?"

"The two of us had just bought some land so we could start a farm," the red-and-gold dragon told him, curling up again. "We were going to raise pigeons."

Amused, Cornice nudged Ozone to keep him from falling back asleep. "Definitely not. If I planned to raise any kind of animal, they'd have to be arctic foxes."

Ozone laughed a little. "Don't be so predictable."

"I am not predictable," he responded. "If I was predictable, I'd tell you to get up before I stick icicles in your ears. 'Seize the day, lazy SkyWing.'"

"Ouch," said Ozone. "That's not very nice."

"Exactly," said Cornice. "But I'm changing my ways and becoming a nice dragon, so I didn't say that. Instead, I'm nicely asking you to get up so we can eat the food that Loess kindly made for us. And not keep him waiting."

"All right, I'm getting up," said Ozone, stretching. "I wouldn't want to keep him waiting or come across like an ungracious guest. Especially since he was kind enough to not even ask us why I was expelled from the army. I'm honestly surprised he didn't ask any questions. What if I was actually a traitor or something?"

"Oh," said Cornice. "About that… I think he thinks we had a secret affair."

Ozone's response was almost a yelp. "What?!"

"Intertribal romances are a valid reason for being expelled," said Cornice. "If you were dating a dragon from a rival tribe, then your loyalties might be compromised."

The SkyWing looked desperately embarrassed (which, despite claiming to be a nice dragon, Cornice found highly amusing). "Yes, I get that! But if you knew that Loess drew the wrong conclusion, then why under the three moons didn't you correct him?"

Cornice shrugged. "Because then he'd ask questions."

Ozone hesitated and then nodded, although he still looked flushed. "I guess that makes sense. It still doesn't feel right lying to him about that, though."

"We're not lying," pointed out the ice dragon. "It's not our fault he might've come to the wrong conclusion. And we don't even know for certain. That's just my guess."

"You're probably right," said Ozone, unhappily.

"Don't stress out over it," said Cornice, not unkindly. "Come eat, okay?"

* * *

The next few days were like a dream. It was a pleasant dream, but totally unlike anything Cornice had ever experienced, and probably unlike anything he would ever experience again. He and Ozone explored Possibility together, hoping they would come across the Tribeless but mostly just wandering. Besides his somewhat disastrous flight from the Ice Kingdom, this was the first time Cornice had gone anywhere without any specific destination in mind. He and Ozone were just walking to nowhere.

There was a saying (not from the Ice Kingdom) that most things in life were more about the journey than the destination. And for the first time, Cornice understood why that saying had been said. He and Ozone stumbled upon shops they never could have dreamed of, selling everything from scented candles to dried flowers to fancy hats.

He never would have guessed a store existed devoted solely to fancy hats.

"We have to check this one out," he said, dragging Ozone inside.

To his credit, Ozone never once complained about all the detours Cornice had been dragging him on, even though the Tribeless would probably never hold a meeting in a store for fancy hats. The Tribeless probably didn't know a store for fancy hats was even a thing. But Cornice had never seen anything like it and he wanted to be there. He wanted to try on fancy hats and laugh at his own reflection and have a good time doing things he'd never imagined doing two months ago.

Things the Ice Kingdom didn't have were a comfort to him here. Playing around and embracing the cultural differences of Possibility was starting to convince him that a life in the Ice Kingdom was not the only life worth living.

He had found a new life. It was fun and it was exciting and it might not be proper by any definition of the word, but it was his life. Cornice didn't need anyone to approve of it besides himself. And maybe Ozone, but Ozone wouldn't judge anyway.

It was a much bigger store than it appeared from the outside, made up of several long aisles with towering shelves. There were boxed hats and hats on display and even a hats on a rack by the door. Cornice was amazed.

"Look at this one," he said excitedly, grabbing a fedora with a giant feather on the top. He put it on and turned to face his friend. "How do I look?"

"Like a poet," said Ozone, laughing. "From the time of the Scorching."

Cornice stuck out his forked tongue. "I'd like to see you find something better."

"Challenge accepted," said Ozone, in such a mild tone that it sounded like a joke.

"I'll get an even better one, and then we'll see who has more style. Meet you back here in twenty seconds," said Cornice, crouching like a sprinter. "Ready—go!"

He bounded off down one of the aisles, vaguely aware of Ozone laughing at his enthusiasm. He skidded to a halt as he caught sight of something eye-assaulting. It was a witch's hat, easily half his height, and covered from top to bottom in what looked like reflective, sparkly scales. Cornice didn't even have a name for them.

Grinning, he swapped it for the fedora and looked in a nearby mirror. He looked like something out of one of the dragonet storybooks Ozone had read to him the day before (he'd mentioned never reading one, and the SkyWing had vowed to fix that). His scales barely looked white anymore, covered with dazzling arcs of color from the light bouncing off the hat. _Perfect. This'll beat whatever Ozone's found for sure!_

He ran back down the aisle and almost crashed into something hideous.

It was a red dragon, wearing what looked like a giant scavenger head over his own. Cornice couldn't even see the dragon's face. "Ozone? Is that you?"

"Yup," said the SkyWing's voice, sounding slightly muffled. "Like my hat?"

Cornice walked in a circle around his friend, disbelieving. "That's a hat? It looks like you're transforming into a scavenger." He poked it, leaving a wrinkle in the strange material. "A scavenger made of plastic. Or perhaps a scavenger-themed balloon."

"It's the weirdest thing in this whole store," said Ozone, pulling it off. "It smells awful in there, though. And it's hard to see anything through the tiny eye holes."

"I think my hat's better," said Cornice. "Take a good look."

Ozone looked up, curiously, and then shielded his eyes. "What in Pyrrhia?"

"It's covered in little sparkly things," said Cornice, delighted.

"Those are called sequins," the red-and-gold dragon informed him. "And in this kind of lighting, they're blinding. Like sun off the water. I'm getting spots in my vision."

"I guess only an IceWing can appreciate this hat in all its glory," said Cornice. "I have perfect resistance to bright lights. I could stare at the sun all day if I wanted to. Or this magnificent hat."

"Okay, you win," said Ozone, squinting. "But you know what would make this hat even better? If it changed colors like a RainWing."

"Hmm," said Cornice, looking up at it thoughtfully. "Ozone, I think you could be a great hat designer if your heart so desired."

Ozone smiled. "Thank you."

* * *

After exploring the city on their own all day, Cornice and Ozone would talk with Loess over dinner, and the potter would tell them about the dragons he'd met. It quickly became clear that being a shopkeeper in a city as diverse as Possibility meant you'd interact with a lot of interesting people.

"An old SandWing soldier came to my shop today," Loess said one day. "As did an old SeaWing soldier. And they greeted each other with such warmth, although they'd been fighting on opposite sides. What I find so inspiring about veterans from the war is that they treat each other with dignity. There are no sides anymore. They're just happy that the war is over. These two dragons fought against each other, and yet afterwards they settled in the same city and bonded over their shared experiences."

Cornice and Ozone exchanged a glance. They knew that not everyone was happy the war was over. Behind everyone's backs, the Tribeless were trying to start the conflict again.

"Did you fight in the war, Loess?" asked Ozone.

"I didn't," said the potter. "I was too young. But I do remember my mother going off to battle. It was during the war that she met my father, actually. My father said that he was afraid of Famine's army, at first, but my mother treated him with compassion. After Famine conquered the Mud Kingdom, the SandWings didn't hesitate to use their own medical supplies to treat the defeated army. They weren't all cruel."

Cornice was startled—he'd never heard that kind of story before, even though the IceWings had been the first tribe Famine conquered. His mother insisted on training him, but she didn't talk about the war often. The IceWings were too ashamed of their defeat, their role as Famile's allies, and their loss of the Great Ice Cliff.

"I didn't know that," said Ozone, softly.

"There's a lot of things dragons don't know," said Loess, sighing. "But that's life. I just try to make up for it by running my mouth a lot." He laughed a little.

Cornice and Ozone smiled back.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said the potter, turning to Ozone. "I don't know if you've been in touch with them, but I saw your friends today. The trio of rowdy SandWings?"

"Really?" said Ozone, perking up. "Where?"

"They were at some SeaWing jeweler's shop," Loess responded, scratching his chin. "I think one of them mentioned something about a concert hall. Perhaps they're planning to go there tomorrow? I think a SandWing band is performing there."

Ozone glanced at Cornice. "Do you think we should go?"

Cornice kept his voice deliberately mild. "I'd like to meet your other friends."

Ozone looked a little surprised, and then seemed to understand that Cornice was trying to be discreet. He nodded, and then looked back to Loess. "Thanks for letting us know. We'll definitely go check it out."

The bigger dragon looked pleased. "No problem. Enjoy yourselves."

This would be the first time they'd face the Tribeless, fully knowing who they were and knowing that Ozone's friends had tried to kill him. What would prevent the Tribless from finishing the job if they noticed them? Cornice and Ozone would have to be extremely careful, even if there was a large crowd.

Cornice swallowed back apprehension. "We will."

* * *

 **AN: Sandshadow, I hope Ozone's dream was a good enough farm ending for you. :D**


	25. Chapter 24

**AN: Hey everyone! It's been a while, but I'm back with another chapter. I'm not satisfied with it by a long shot, but I don't think there's much I can do to make it better at this point, so I have to pry it out of my hands and just post it already, or it'll be ten more years before I finish this story. For some context (either for readers who came in the middle or for visitors from the future), I managed to just miss** ** _Unexpected Places_** **' second anniversary, because I somehow misread the initial publication day as April 30th instead of 20th. Oops.**

 **Anyways, I ended up splitting my initial outline for this chapter in half, so I should be able to write the next one out pretty quickly. I'm hoping to have that one ready to post next week on the story's not-anniversary. :P**

 **I'm also posting a new poll on my profile, and I'd really appreciate if everyone voted. I'm looking for feedback about the reasons you all enjoy this story (I mean, if you're still reading this I'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and assume that you DO enjoy reading it, even when I don't enjoy writing it so much). I tried to include all the things I personally like in a story as possible choices, but if I left anything out, please don't hesitate to let me know. Also, on the opposite end of the spectrum, please feel free to be brutally honest if there's not a lot you like. You can chose as many or as few of the options as you feel apply.** **The reason I'm making this poll is because I can't help feeling like my writing as a whole is lacking something compared to other people's stories, and I can't figure out what it is. I just think it's easier to ask what I'm doing right as opposed to wrong; if there's a choice that no one selects, then that's what I need to work on more. It's really difficult to look at my work from an outside prospective, so I'm relying on you guys!**

 **Thanks again! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

When the time came for the dragonets to leave for the concert, Loess sketched out a map for them to follow, talking as he drew. "Go back towards the corner where the library is and make a left there. After that, go down three more blocks and it'll be on your right. It's next door to a MudWing tea shop. If you still can't find it, make sure you ask someone for directions. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," said Ozone. "Thanks, Loess."

"Thanks," Cornice echoed, accepting the scrap of paper their friend handed him. "We'll tell you all about the concert when we get back."

"Bring me back a signature," said Loess, winking to show them he was joking.

"I'll get them to sign my wings," said Cornice, spreading them out dramatically to demonstrate. "I bet they'll write a lovely poem in your honor."

Loess gave a hearty laugh, and Cornice grinned at him.

Ozone ducked his head, smiling at the pair's interaction. He was glad to see that Cornice had taken a liking to Loess the same way he had. They joked around now with an easy grace now, the way a lot of close friends did.

He tried to shake off the tingle of envy beneath his scales. He'd never been that easygoing around another dragons, even when he got along with them well. Sard was usually bursting with humor, but it seemed that whenever he tried to joke back, Ozone misspoke and came across as awkward instead of funny. With Jackal and Tumbleweed, he'd never bothered trying. It was better to play it safe and not take any social risks.

Still, he couldn't help feeling sometimes like he was only half a dragon because of it. He could befriend other dragons, but he was never really anyone's best friend. Sard had chosen to hang out with him mainly because Gale and Buzzard were grouchy and her only other option, Ridge, was more inclined to ignore her in favor of a nice scroll. Ozone laughed at her jokes and pranks and talked to her when she was bored, but they'd never had much else connecting them. The friendship had been essentially one-sided. When Ozone had tried to be assertive, tried to make it two-sided, she'd rejected him.

Now Cornice was the dragon standing beside him instead. But just like Sard, he'd become friends with Ozone by pure circumstance, not because they'd had anything in common. For a long time, Ozone had been the only SkyWing Cornice had ever met. His only option besides Ozone was complete isolation.

Ozone couldn't help wondering if this friendship would last any longer than the one he'd had with Sard. Maybe it would just fall apart once Cornice met someone else, someone he liked better than Ozone. Or maybe he'd find a new place to belong and give up on traveling. How long would it be, really, before Cornice decided that the Tribeless had nothing to do with him and left Ozone to deal with them alone?

He tried to shake off his worry. _No, Cornice does care about me. I think. I hope._

"Are you ready to go?" asked the white dragon, poking him.

"Yeah," Ozone responded, blinking. "Sorry, just deep in thought."

Cornice lead the way out of Loess's house and down the street, which had become familiar over the course of the last few days. A SandWing whose name they didn't know, but who they'd crossed paths with a few times, made eye contact with Ozone and smiled. He nodded back. It made him feel a little better about no one actually liking him.

 _Stop thinking like that,_ he scolded himself. _Think about someone else._

His mind strayed instead to the idea of what they would find when they got to the concert hall. Would it be just Jackal, Tumbleweed, and Kulta? Or would there be more of the Tribeless, too? Would he and Cornice be outnumbered?

Would the Tribeless want to finish what they'd started?

Hopefully being in a public place would prevent a fight from breaking out. Ozone would have felt more comfortable if it had been broad daylight now, but the sun was setting and the streets of Possibility were getting darker. Shopkeepers were starting to go out and light the lampposts outside their shops. A yellowish SkyWing—after a closer look, Ozone noticed that the dragon had a SandWing crest—also lit the lamp next to his neighbor's fish shop. The SeaWing called out in thanks.

It wasn't much longer before they passed the tea shop Loess had mentioned. The sign above the door read "Flavors of the Marsh". The customers in the seats outside the shop were mostly MudWings, but there was a group of young SkyWings there too. One of the red dragons suddenly turned pink and green, and the others cheered. It seemed the "SkyWing" was actually a RainWing imitating his friends' color.

"Ooh, try imitating Torch now," one of them said. "Stuffy personality and all!"

The RainWing grinned and obliged, making the others roar with laughter.

"This is it," said Cornice, putting out one wing to stop Ozone. He turned and saw that the door was open, revealing a stage in the back. Cornice had turned to a SandWing standing outside and asked, "How much are tickets?"

The SandWing shook his head. "It's free entrance today. We're featuring an up-and-coming band, so we want anyone who's interested to be able to come."

Cornice tilted his head to one side, looking confused. Ozone guessed that he had never experienced something like this in the Ice Kingdom. From what he'd gathered, everything was systematic and logical there. Prices were likely consistent, and nothing offered for free, regardless of the circumstances.

"That's very kind," said Ozone. "Thank you."

"Yes," echoed Cornice. "Thanks…"

Once they'd gone inside, Ozone surveyed the area. Like he'd seen from outside, the stage was at the back of the room. From there, the seats were arranged at a gradual slope, so the ones at the back were elevated the highest. "Where should we sit?"

"Up here," said Cornice, heading for the top.

"Perfect," he said once he'd gotten there, looking down at the many rows of seats in front of them and the stage far below. "If the Tribeless come in here, we'll definitely be able to see them. Hopefully without them seeing us. It doesn't look like they're here yet, but keep your eyes open, because you'd recognize them better than I would."

Ozone studied the crowd that had begun gathering in the front few rows. There were a few SandWings there, but none with Jackal's mottled scales. He spotted a tawny dragon who reminded him of Tumbleweed, but it was much too tall to be her.

"Not yet," he confirmed, shaking his head.

"Good," said Cornice. "Then they won't have seen us come in."

"What if they have the same idea as you did and decide to sit in the back?" said Ozone, his wings fluttering nervously at his sides. "Won't they see us up here?"

"Hopefully not," said his friend, pointing up at the ceiling. Mounted there were several spotlights, which were already on. "That's why I decided to sit under these. The brightness doesn't bother me, but it'll hurt their eyes if they look directly over here."

Ozone nodded, feeling reassured. "That was a good idea."

"I know," said Cornice, managing to not sound smug about it.

For a moment, they sat there together in silence. Cornice glanced at Ozone and then looked away, his gaze wandering over the crowd. He watched a group of dragonets play tag between the rows, squealing loudly whenever the chaser got close, until their parents intervened and scolded them for causing a ruckus. The group took seats in the middle of the hall, positioning themselves so that there was a fully grown dragon sitting between each of the dragonets to keep them separated.

Cornice sighed, looking bored.

 _Come on,_ Ozone told himself. _Say something interesting!_

But he couldn't think of what to say. He'd known Cornice for about a month now, and had told him pretty much his entire life story, but he still didn't know how to hold a conversation with him now that their day-to-day lives overlapped completely. There was nothing new to tell him. And Ozone didn't have the ability to make a conversation about nothing somehow turn into something.

But… maybe new things weren't the only option. After all, Cornice had an entire past that they had never spoken about. Ozone knew his friend didn't want to talk about why he had decided to leave the Ice Kingdom, beyond what he'd already shared, but that didn't mean he wouldn't talk about anything else.

There had to be some harmless questions Ozone could ask.

"What does IceWing music sound like?" he said, realizing that he didn't know. "I bet it isn't anything like what the SandWing band is going to play."

"I've never heard SandWing music," Cornice admitted. "But IceWing music is… subtle. Kind of restrained and simple, like everything IceWings do. It's mostly high and clear notes. Chimes… some piano. I've heard war drums involved, too, although that's uncommon in modern compositions. You know, since the war's over."

"SkyWing music is very fierce," Ozone commented. "Not at all restrained. There are lots of flutes and other wind instruments. Some vocalization. It's all very loud."

"That… doesn't surprise me," said Cornice, grinning. Ozone smiled back, almost without realizing. "What do you think the SandWing music will sound like?"

"Hmm," said the red-and-gold dragon, considering. "Probably very… sandy."

Cornice shoved him playfully. "Wow, what profound insight."

"No, really," said Ozone. "Think about it. Chimes sound cold somehow. Like… it makes me think of the sound you would get if you tapped two icicles together."

"Why would you ever tap two icicles together?"

"For the sake of music," Ozone insisted. "And SkyWing music has a lot of flutes, which sound like wind howling through the mountain peaks. So if IceWing music is icy and SkyWing music is mountainy, then SandWing music should sound sandy."

Cornice thought about it. "I guess that makes sense."

Ozone nudged him. "See, not everything I say is nonsensical or ignorant."

"Hey," his friend protested. "I never said it was."

"I know you didn't," said Ozone, feeling like he wasn't expressing himself right. He considered trying to elaborate, decided against it, and then promptly changed his mind. He couldn't help feeling like he had something to prove. He didn't want to lose this… whatever he had with Cornice. "It's just… I know I'm not the smartest dragon. My head is in the clouds most of the time, and there are a lot of things I just don't know. Like… anything about other dragons. And sometimes I feel like that's all you can see."

Cornice stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

Ozone shook his head, frustrated. "Never mind."

"No," said Cornice. "I want to know what you mean."

Ozone sighed. "I'm not good at anything to do with other dragons. I never read them right. I always end up saying the wrong things. With Jackal and the others… I just messed up, really badly. I know now that trusting them was really stupid. But it didn't even cross my mind at the time that they might be using me. All I thought was that… maybe I had finally found dragons who liked me. Who liked me the way I was."

Cornice was quiet for a long moment.

"Hey," he said eventually. "If it makes you feel any better, dragons don't usually like me very much, either." Ozone's gaze cut towards him in surprise. "Either they look at me and see my father, or they are my father and they see that I'm not like my siblings. My mother is probably the only dragon who never wanted me to be anyone else besides me. But 'me' just wasn't good enough. So I left."

"What?" said Ozone, shocked. "You're smart and strong. If they don't think you're good enough, that's their problem, not yours."

His friend shrugged. "I know that. I'm too good for them."

Ozone stared at Cornice. How could the IceWing be so confident?

Cornice glanced back at him. "The same goes for you, you know. You only think you're not good at talking with other dragons because everyone else is trying to force you to be someone you're not. You're fine the way you are."

"Really?" asked Ozone, very quietly.

"Really," said the other dragonet. "Listen, Ozone, what makes you special is that you don't make assumptions about other dragons. You don't judge anyone. And when you see someone who needs help, you help them. You don't ask questions, you don't answer your own questions without knowing any of the facts. You just do what you can. I'm starting to think that's all a dragon really needs."

"Where is this coming from?" asked Ozone, bewildered.

Cornice shrugged. "You, I guess. And a little bit everything else."

 _Me?_ Ozone couldn't believe he'd had any kind of effect on his IceWing friend. He hadn't done anything special, ever. That was his problem—he was indecisive, and when he couldn't decide what to do he just chose to do nothing. Although, he supposed that everything Cornice had said was something he hadn't done, not something he had.

Cornice straightened up suddenly. "Is that them?"

Ozone followed his gaze. On the other side of the concert hall, he could see three familiar shapes among a group of other dragons. Jackal was standing next to the older SandWing, Gravel, while Tumbleweed was chatting with Barracuda, and Kulta appeared to be deep in discussion with Amphibian, the Tribeless MudWings' bigwings. Ozone could make out a deep scratch along one of Kulta's wings, the dark red standing in stark contrast with her pale gold scales. The wound erased any lingering doubt he might've had about the Tribeless being their mysterious attackers.

"Yes," he said, instinctively shrinking down in his seat.

The other two MudWings were there, too, as well as Thermocline and Rockslide and a few dragons that Ozone had never met before. Altogether there were thirteen of them gathered. Was it possible the extra three had been recruited since Ozone's trip to Possibility? Or were the Tribeless just a bigger group than he'd realized?

Just then, the lights dimmed, and the SandWing who had been by the door when Ozone and Cornice arrived walked onstage to announce that the show was starting.

Jackal glanced over at the stage, and then turned back to Gravel. It looked like he cared more about their discussion than the music. Was the concert just a convenient meeting place, where it was too loud for anyone to overhear what they were saying?

Cornice leaned towards Ozone. "Maybe I can get closer. They wouldn't recognize me even if they did see me. If I overhear something, it could give us some idea about what they're planning to do next. And some idea about what we should do next."

Ozone nodded slowly. "That's true… But they do know that there was an IceWing in the battle. By the three moons, just be careful, alright?"

His friend nodded. "I will. I'll make it look like I'm just walking by. Look, there's a refreshment stand over in that corner. I'll wait for a few songs to go by and then walk over there. It'll look totally natural, I promise."

"Good luck," said Ozone, his voice barely above a whisper. Jackal and the others couldn't hear them from here, especially now that the band was beginning to play, but he was still hyperaware of the urgency. The Tribeless outnumbered them easily six-to-one. They might not try anything in a large crowd like this, but that wouldn't do much to help Ozone and Cornice once the concert ended.

Cornice didn't respond, but Ozone could see the tension in his wings.

After the duration of a few songs ticked painstakingly by, the white dragon got out of his seat. He began to stroll along behind the top row, looking nonchalant but purposeful. As he neared the section where the Tribeless had gathered, Ozone's heart began to pound. He could barely hear the music anymore.

He glanced down at the Tribeless, who appeared to be still talking. Kulta looked around and then said something to Jackal and Gravel. The older SandWing responded; Jackal and Kulta listened attentively to whatever he was saying.

 _Can Cornice hear anything?_ The IceWing had slowed to an even more relaxed-looking pace. Like always, he looked completely unconcerned, but Ozone noticed that his ears were twitching slightly, as if straining to hear something.

He finished walking to the beverage stand, ordered something, and then leaned against the wall as he waited. His blue eyes drifted to the Tribeless.

They went on talking, seemingly oblivious.

Jackal gestured with his tail as he spoke. The other two SandWings both looked around, and Ozone's stomach lurched as Gravel's dark gaze passed over him. He ducked further down in his seat, hoping the older dragon hadn't spotted him.

Ozone kept his head bowed. A couple more songs passed before Cornice returned to his seat with a cup in his talons and an urgent look on his face.

"What did you hear?" asked Ozone.

The IceWing shook his head, looking serious. "Not much. The band was too loud for me to pick up a lot of it, and I didn't want to risk sitting down near them. But I'm sure I heard the grayish SandWing say something about a Rainforest branch. And there was a name, too. The pale gold one mentioned a Rhubarb."

"Rainforest branch?" echoed Ozone, picturing a tree. He tried to redirect his gaze to the SandWings performing on stage, hoping that he'd look unsuspicious if any of the Tribeless happened to glance in his direction again.

 _Three moons, I really hope Gravel didn't recognize me._

Cornice nodded. "Like how I told you the Tribeless have some presence in the Ice Kingdom too. Do you remember? My sister told me about a dragon who came to our house to talk with her about it once. So they must have three branches: an Ice Kingdom branch, a Possibility branch, and a Rainforest branch."

An uneasy feeling began tingling in Ozone's stomach. "So, what does that mean? That the group who attacked us aren't the only dragons in the Tribeless?"

"I guess not," answered Cornice.

Ozone was silent for a moment, letting this new knowledge sink in. "How are we supposed to deal with all three? That makes things a lot more complicated."

"It does," agreed Cornice. "But it also gave me an idea."

Ozone glanced at him sharply. "What is it?"

"Well, this branch of the Tribeless would recognize you," said the IceWing. "And I'm not going back to the Ice Kingdom. But the Rainforest… we could go there without anyone recognizing us. And then we could find out more. From there, we could even try to infiltrate the Tribeless and take them down from the inside."

Ozone's head spun. "Do you really think we could do something like that?"

"Well, we have to try." Cornice's expression was serious. "Don't we?"

Ozone took a deep breath. "Okay. Then that's where we'll go."

He tried to stand up, but Cornice pulled him back down, shaking his head. "I didn't mean right now. You'll attract too much attention. We have to leave with the rest of the crowd so the Tribeless don't notice us. And if we go back early, Loess will realize that there's anything out of the ordinary going on. It's better if he doesn't worry."

"That makes sense," Ozone admitted, reluctantly sitting down again. He really didn't want to stay any longer. He was already worried that he'd been noticed.

Waiting through the rest of the concert was agonizing.

Ozone's heart was beating so fiercely that he worried it would explode out of his chest. He couldn't pay attention to the music at all. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

At least, each member of the band bowed, to wild applause from the audience, as the concert came to a close. Ozone leapt to his feet as soon as everyone else began to get up and dragged Cornice towards the door.

"Calm down," said the white dragon, swatting him with one wing. "I don't even see the Tribeless anymore. And they didn't even look at me once."

"I know, sorry," said Ozone, in a rush. "I'm just nervous."

"I know," said Cornice, softening a little. "But you don't need to be."

Ozone took a deep breath, making an effort to relax. He was surrounded on all sides by tall dragons, so it would be hard for the Tribeless to catch sight of him now even if they'd spotted him earlier. The crowd milled out of the concert hall at a slow pace, chatting about how good the performance had been.

Eventually, Cornice and Ozone managed to extract themselves from the sea of dragons. Ozone took a deep breath of the now brisk night air.

"All right," said Cornice, shaking out his wings. "Let's head back to Loess's house. We can thank him again for his hospitality, tell him we're moving on—keep everything simple—, and leave early in the morning tomorrow."

"That's right," said Ozone, feeling a little sad. "We'll have to say goodbye…"

Cornice nudged him. "It's for the best."

They set off back down the street the way they'd come. Although the sky was pitch-black, and most of the shops were closing for the night, their path was well-lit by lanterns. Ozone managed to shake off the rest of his unease.

That is, until they turned the corner at the end of the street.

Leaning against the wall was a familiar dappled dragon. His smile was as friendly as ever, but something in his dark eyes had become cold. As his gaze landed on Ozone and Cornice, his expression became one of calculated triumph.

"Hello, Ozone," said Jackal. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"


	26. Chapter 25

**AN: Okay, I'm a few days late, but I do have another chapter ready for you today! Thank you to everyone who's still reading after all this time. And a special thanks to those who voted in my poll! It's still open, so if you haven't voted yet, please head over to my profile and answer the question! Your feedback really helps me out as a writer.**

 **I also wanted to let you guys know that I'll be making an effort to respond to reviews more often from now on. When I started this story, I was going through a kind of weird phase where I wanted to stay distant from other users and focus solely on my writing. But now I'm starting to open up more, and I want to get to know you guys a little better. So I'd really love to hear from you in that way too!**

 **Thanks again for reading and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Cornice instinctively settled into a fighting stance, the icicle spikes along his back bristling. Beside him, Ozone had gone completely frozen.

Written all over the SkyWing's face was a mixture of fear and pain, as if the mere sight of the dragon who had once been his friend was like a sword digging into his heart. Jackal hadn't even lifted a claw now, but he was still hurting Ozone.

Cornice felt a surge of rage. How dare Jackal do this to his friend? Cornice had never felt protective of another dragon like this before, but the anger was familiar; it settled over his scales like a suit of armor. For the first time since he'd left the Ice Kingdom, he embraced the feeling. It made him stronger. He knew from experience if he got angry enough, he wouldn't feel any pain, even in a fight.

It would hurt later, he remembered, but for now he would be invincible.

He forced away the memories. He had to control his anger for the moment, not give into it. Not yet. He curled his claws, preparing to attack. _Soon._

Jackal chuckled, seeming completely at ease. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Cornice didn't budge, but Ozone blinked, slowly coming out of his petrified state.

"Gravel told me he saw you at the concert," the conniving SandWing went on, still smiling pleasantly. "But you didn't even come over to us and say hello. So I waited here at the corner, hoping you'd come this way. Like I said, I haven't received a letter from you in a while, Ozone. I've been… concerned about you."

"Concerned?" echoed Ozone, looking confused.

Cornice narrowed his eyes. He recognized this dragon's name, scales, and voice from the day of the attack. He had tried to kill the SkyWings. But Jackal was acting like he and Ozone were still friends. He was acting like nothing had happened that day.

Was the SandWing actually crazy?

Or was this a calculated move?

Jackal's dark eyes took in Ozone's appearance and then widened, as if he was noticing the SkyWing's lingering injuries for the first time. "Ozone… you're covered in scratches and bite marks. Did you get into a fight? What happened?"

Ozone searched his former friend's gaze, as if looking for a hint of remorse. He swallowed. And then his expression settled into as fierce of a look as Cornice had ever seen on him. He lifted his chin defiantly. "I think you know exactly what happened."

For a moment, Jackal didn't react at all. And then, slowly, the smile returned to his face. "So our plan really did end in total failure. Barracuda and I were hoping that after our catastrophic loss, at least no one had recognized us. I suppose you told your Commander it was us, too. That's a bit of an issue." His barbed tail tapped thoughtfully on the pavement. "But I'll deal with all that later. Actually, I'm glad we ended up losing the battle. It would have been a shame to have to kill you, Ozone."

The SkyWing glared at him. "Stop pretending you care."

For a moment, Jackal looked genuinely hurt. "But I really do care."

"You're lying," Ozone said, his claws curling into shaking fists. "This whole time, you were just using me. You're not really my friend."

"Oh, Ozone," said Jackal, sighing. "You see this world as so black and white. Just because our goals don't align doesn't mean that I dislike you. On the contrary, I found your letters relatable. In another life, we could have been closer. But in a revolution like this, I can't afford to be sentimental. Our goal, the change that Pyrrhia needs, is more important than the feelings of any one dragon. You understand that, don't you?"

"No," said Ozone, his voice quiet but steady. "I don't understand."

Jackal's barb skated along the ground as his tail moved to curl around his front claws. Cornice kept his wary gaze fixed on the poisonous tip. "What a pity. I thought you were more open-minded than that, honestly."

Ozone didn't seem to know how to respond. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. His orange eyes welled with tears.

"There's a big difference between being open-minded and sympathizing with a dragon who wants to conquer the world," Cornice interrupted. "Especially when that dragon also thinks that deciding to kill his friends for power makes him a tragic hero."

Jackal's gaze jumped to him, narrowing furiously. "And who are you?"

Cornice's tail lashed. "Ozone's real friend. Unlike you."

He was still furious, but something in his chest bubbled with grim satisfaction. By antagonizing Jackal, he'd landed a real blow. It would be difficult for the SandWing to continue manipulating Ozone's emotions when he was clearly livid.

And now, Cornice was back in his element.

Living in a world outside the Ice Kingdom was difficult. Making friends instead of enemies out of everyone he met didn't come naturally to Cornice.

But goading another dragon into a fight? That wasn't difficult at all.

He'd done it a million times.

He was ready. Ready to lunge into battle, carving wounds into another dragon's scales and seeing red blood spill out. Ready to taunt and goad and push and push until this SandWing's smooth charade came toppling down and he retaliated and Ozone could clearly see what kind of monster he really was on the inside.

Of all things, after all those years, that was what came naturally to Cornice.

What would happen without his father appearing to pry Cornice and his brother away from each other? Would the citizens of Possibility interfere in his place?

Or would Cornice actually keep fighting until he couldn't fight anymore?

 _Could I actually kill this despicable SandWing? Would I?_

Grimly, he accepted that it was time for him to find out.

"Wait," said Ozone, grabbing Cornice's shoulder. "Don't fight."

The SkyWing's words seemed to knock some sense back into Jackal, whose angry expression dissolved behind a curtain of nonchalance. "Yes, let's not. It would be brutal to fight one another in the middle of the street. Possibility is a peaceful city, after all."

Cornice's bloodlust ebbed, although it had nothing to do with Jackal's words and probably everything to do with the desperate look on Ozone's face. And hopefully a little to do with the fact that despite his feral nature, he wasn't a murderous dragon. _Think about that, Cornice. Don't be like Jackal. Don't fight just because it's easier._

Ozone turned to Jackal. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I was here in Possibility with a few friends, and we saw you in the crowd," said the SandWing. "And I wanted to find out how much you knew about who we are, which unfortunately turns out to be a lot. But I might as well let you live. Killing you wouldn't accomplish anything at this point. And I don't really want to kill you. Contrary to the IceWing's beliefs, I _don't_ think that would be heroic." He glared at Cornice.

"We'll stay out of your way," said Ozone.

"What?" hissed Cornice.

Ozone shook his head. "There's nothing we can do anyway. Trying to interfere would only cause more bloodshed. That's what Jackal thinks, right?" He looked back at the SandWing, his expression tired and defeated.

Jackal only smiled. "I'm glad we're on the same page now."

Ozone turned to look at Cornice. "See? We'd be better off leaving Possibility, and leaving this entire mess behind us. It's not even like I really disagree with the Tribeless, deep down. I just don't want to be involved in any violence."

"Hmm," said Jackal. "So you know what we call ourselves, too. It sounds like you've been snooping around, my friend. Where exactly did you learn that name?"

Ozone shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that it turned out you were fighting for a cause I could relate to. You just never gave me a chance."

"I can't believe you," growled Cornice.

Jackal's eyes shone with something that looked almost like regret. "I thought you might, but Tumbleweed and Kulta convinced me that it wasn't worth endangering our plan to tell you. We had to win a battle against real warriors, before we made our grand entrance on the political stage. We had to prove that we're a force to be reckoned with."

"That doesn't matter," Ozone said. "I just don't want to fight anymore. Please."

Cornice glared at him, trying to will some courage into this spineless dragon with the sheer intensity of his eyes. _Take that back, you coward._

But Ozone didn't falter, even under the weight of his fury. Of all possible things, this was what he refused to back down from. Cornice grit his teeth. "Fine."

Jackal studied them, and then relaxed. "Good. That works best for me, anyway."

"For all of us," said Ozone, avoiding the SandWing's gaze.

For a moment, all three dragons were silent. Jackal seemed to be sizing them up. The crowd from the concert had fully dispersed by now, leaving the street relatively deserted, but Cornice was sure that someone would hear if a fight broke out. He glanced around, looking for something that would make a racket, if necessary.

Jackal stepped back, leaving the path free for them. "Then I'll let you go."

Ozone hesitated, then nodded and kept walking along the path.

Jackal didn't move.

Neither did Cornice, keeping his suspicious gaze fixed on the SandWing.

"Come on, Cornice," said Ozone, turning back to look at him.

Reluctantly, Cornice followed his friend. Jackal's dark gaze tracked him intently as he walked by. Cornice felt uneasy breaking eye contact with an enemy, but even as he turned his back on the rebel, Jackal didn't attack. It seemed the SandWing was letting them go after all. Perhaps, in his own way, he really did care about Ozone.

Still, even after Jackal was far behind them, Cornice didn't say anything. He was too angry to speak. How dare Ozone admit defeat, right after they made a plan to act against the Tribeless? Then every risk they'd just taken was for nothing!

He growled deep in his throat, a sound of pure frustration.

Ozone glanced at him timidly. "Are you angry at me?"

"Am I angry?" asked Cornice, disbelieving. "No, I think the two of us and Jackal just frolicked in the fields of friendship. Of course I'm angry! What was that? You don't want to fight?! You don't want to stop the Tribless?! You _agree_ with them?!"

Ozone ducked his head. "Did you… actually believe what I said back there?"

Cornice stopped dead in his tracks.

"We couldn't just admit that we're trying to stop the Tribeless," explained Ozone, looking anxious. "Or Jackal wouldn't have let us go like that. Even if he didn't attack us then and there, he'd probably send someone to follow us and finish the job. It's better to convince him that we want to disentangle ourselves from the Tribeless' plans and live a quiet and peaceful life. Then, when we leave Possibility tomorrow, he'll assume that we went somewhere completely irrelevant. But really, we'll be off to the Rainforest."

It took Cornice a long moment to process this. "So you were tricking him?"

Ozone shrank even further under his piercing gaze. Then he nodded.

"You… you…" Cornice was speechless. "You are a genius, Ozone. A genius."

Ozone looked embarrassed. "Not really. I just did the same thing you did earlier, when you let Loess believe that Jackal's still my friend so he wouldn't suspect anything. You said to me what Loess was expecting to hear you say. So I just told Jackal what I thought he would expect me to say. And I guess it worked."

Cornice couldn't have held back his grin even if he'd wanted to. "My point is still valid. I don't mind calling myself a genius, too, if that's what your words imply."

Ozone straightened up. "So you're not angry at me anymore?"

"Nope," said Cornice.

"That's a relief," said his friend, managing a shy smile. It faltered a moment later, replaced with a more serious expression. "Cornice, I know going to the Rainforest was your idea, but… you don't have to come with me if you'd rather stay here."

Cornice blinked. "What?"

"I know how much you love Possibility," Ozone said, in a rush. "And you're not the one involved with the Tribeless. You don't have to get involved. It would be simpler for you to stay here, where it's safe and wonderful. You can make the city the new home you've been looking for. You've already done more than enough to help me."

Cornice let the SkyWing's words sink in.

It was a tempting offer. Ozone was right; he did love Possibility. He could easily imagine building his new home here, on a foundation of diversity and welcome. He did want to stay here. He did want the relaxed, everyday life the city offered.

But not yet.

He couldn't bear the idea of Ozone flying off into unknown danger without him. They were friends now, and friends didn't abandon each other in their times of need.

He snorted, trying to look insulted by Ozone's suggestion. "Are you kidding? I'm already involved. Besides, I'm not keeping score about who's helping who. I'm sticking by you because that's where I want to be. End of story."

Ozone blinked, looking suspiciously misty-eyed. "Thanks Cornice."

"Don't mention it," said the white dragon, flicking his tail dismissively.

In the end, staying behind didn't feel like an option anymore. Somehow, he and Ozone had become friends. They'd already been through a lot together; and, working to bring down the Tribeless, Cornice knew it could only get harder from here on in.

Their lives were a huge mess; that much was indisputable. But that didn't matter so much to Cornice now that he had someone facing it all right by his side.


	27. Chapter 26

"We appreciate that you've been letting us stay with you," Ozone said to Loess. "And it's been really nice living in Possibility for a little while. But Cornice and I have decided it's about time for us to continue our travels." He glanced at the white dragon, who nodded in agreement. "We never intended to stay here forever. I definitely want to see more of the world before I settle down anywhere—"

"And of course I'm going wherever Ozone is," chimed in Cornice.

"—so we're planning on heading out tomorrow morning, if that's okay. We don't want to overstay our welcome," finished Ozone.

Loess snorted. "There's no need for you to worry about any such thing. It's been nice having you here, and that's all there is to it. But if you really feel like you want to move on, the least I can do is give you a proper sendoff tomorrow."

Ozone smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Loess."

The potter smiled back. "I ought to be the one thanking you. You've been some of my best guests. The two of you brighten up the place just by being here."

"Of course we do," Cornice responded, grinning. "Your brown walls don't stand a chance against white, red, and gold. We're, like, the brightest colors possible."

"Not really," Ozone pointed out, amused. "We could've been RainWings."

"True," said Cornice, still wearing the same playful expression. Ozone didn't think he'd ever seen his friend smile before they'd come to Possibility, but now it seemed like he barely stopped. Ozone felt another pang of guilt for dragging Cornice away from the city, where he'd finally found happiness. But he'd given Cornice the choice, and his friend had chosen to come with him. Now, he just owed it to the IceWing to make his friendship worth it. "Hey Loess, don't go replacing us with any RainWings, okay?"

The larger dragon chuckled. "I'll try not to. But if a couple of RainWings show up in town needing a place to spend the night, I can hardly turn them away."

Cornice stuck out his tongue. "I guess we'll have to paint our scales neon colors. My eyes are resistant to brightness, though, so Ozone will have to tell me when his eyes start watering from looking at them. And then I'll make them a bit brighter."

"Don't blind him," Ozone protested mildly, while Loess laughed.

"All right, that's enough," said the older dragon. "I could sit here talking with you all night, but if you're going to be traveling tomorrow, you're going to need to get a good night's sleep. It's time you got to bed. Go on!"

The two dragonets obligingly went to the guest room for the night, where Cornice curled up on the bed and almost immediately began snoring. It seemed that even their earlier run-in with Jackal wasn't enough to shake his confidence.

But Ozone had a more difficult time falling asleep. He kept replaying the incident in his mind, over and over. Did Jackal really care about him? Or was the SandWing still trying to manipulate him even now? It was impossible to tell.

He glanced at Cornice, whose white scales shone in the faint moonlight. The ice dragon was the only friend he could still count on. Despite his underlying sense of guilt, Ozone was glad that Cornice had decided to stay with him.

The IceWing's words had stuck in his head. _I'm not keeping score about who's helping who. I'm sticking by you because that's where I want to be. End of story._

There was something powerful about those simple words. Even Ozone's anxious mind couldn't find a way to refute a response like that. He couldn't worry that Cornice was only trying to repay some perceived debt, or that he felt obligated to help for some other reason. Whether he understood the IceWing's feelings or not, it was clear that Cornice wanted to be beside him. His biggest question was… why?

 _Don't even go there._ He rolled over so his back was facing Cornice instead.

Ozone knew he needed to rest before their journey, but he was reluctant to close his eyes knowing this would be his last time sleeping under this familiar roof. His eyes kept drifting open, leaving him feeling much too alert in the quiet darkness.

He'd never been anywhere as far away as the rainforest; he had no idea how long their journey would be. He imagined there would be at least a couple of nights where they had to find shelter away from civilization.

 _We'll have to fly across the mountains sooner or later,_ he thought as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember his geography lessons. _At least there'll be caves there for shelter. I think directly across the mountain range from here is the Mud Kingdom. But it might be best to follow the mountain range southeast, so we don't get lost. But Cornice said he's not good at flying through wind tunnels; that's how he injured his wing in the first place. I don't want him to be uncomfortable._

 _Would it be better to cross the mountains first and then go south through the Mud Kingdom? Or stay on this side of the mountains? And once we reach Jade Mountain, then we'd know to go straight east… The heat of the desert might be worse than the wind in the mountains, though. We could travel through the desert at night, so it would be cooler, which might actually be nice for Cornice._

 _But it would be dark then, and Cornice wouldn't be able to see…_

 _Maybe I should ask him what he thinks._

It didn't sound like he was snoring anymore. Maybe he was awake.

"Cornice?" Ozone whispered tentatively. He waited in the silence for a moment, but there was no response from the other dragonet other than incoherent grumbling.

Ozone sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Thanks again," said Ozone. "For everything."

"Of course," said Loess, accepting his words graciously. "It was nice having you here. You're welcome to come back any time, you hear me?"

"We hear," said Cornice, nudging the potter affectionately with one wing. "We'll definitely come back to visit. Eventually."

Loess nudged him back. "I wish you the best on your travels."

"And we wish you the best, too," said Ozone.

Waving goodbye to Loess, the dragonets stepped outside into the cool morning air. They'd decided to head out early, so they could get as much traveling in during the day as possible. The sun had only just risen. The shops and houses cast long shadows across the streets, which kept the pavement cool beneath their talons despite the fact that spring was beginning to give way to summer.

"So, which way are we headed?" asked Cornice. "The rainforest is southeast from here, right? So if the sun rises in the east, and we can still see a little of the Ice Kingdom in the distance to north, that means… the rainforest is that way." He turned around in a slow circle and then pointed with one talon in the proper direction.

"Yeah," agreed Ozone. "But I was thinking we could make a quick detour to the library, and find a map to copy. Shouldn't we actually plan a route?"

Cornice made a face. "You're probably right. I distinctly remember crashing into a mountain last time I didn't plan out where I was going. But that was when I met you, so it ended up being a good thing in the long run, didn't it?"

"Hmm," said Ozone, tilting his head thoughtfully. "That's true. But I don't think you can count on running into any more friendly strangers."

"Good point."

Ozone found himself taking the lead, with Cornice following at a relaxed pace.

"I was thinking about this last night, actually," the SkyWing said. "We have three major options: head south from here, through the desert, until we reach Jade Mountain and then turn east to the rainforest; fly directly southeast from here and follow the mountain range; or cross the mountains and then travel south through the Mud Kingdom."

"Since when were you so practical?" Cornice sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Since never," admitted Ozone. "But I am an expert worrier, so I worried about this for most of the night instead of sleeping."

Cornice snorted. Ozone couldn't tell if the sound was one of impatience or vague amusement. "Just don't fall asleep while you're flying later."

"I won't," said Ozone. "Or I'll try not to, anyway. If I start dozing off, you have full permission to breathe your frost breath down the back of my neck." He shivered at the mere thought of it, and Cornice snickered.

"So did you decide which way would be best?" asked the white dragon.

"Uh, no," said Ozone, as the library came into sight. "I'm an expert worrier, not an expert decision-maker. I weighed the pros and cons, but I couldn't decide. It would technically be easiest to find our way if we went south through the desert, since Jade Mountain is an easy landmark to recognize, and we could just turn east there. But the traveling conditions would be miserable because of the heat during the day and pitch-blackness during the night. The mountains are second best as far as navigation goes, but I know they're difficult for you to fly through. We don't need any injuries. And the Mud Kingdom is just the last option. The MudWings might not think very highly of us if we go too deep into their territory, but at least the flying will be easy there."

There was a pause, as Cornice digested this information. "It seems like a pretty easy decision to me. Easiest flying, easiest journey. I vote Mud Kingdom. We can fly alongside the mountains for navigation purposes, so that won't be a problem. The MudWings might not particularly like it, but who cares? We're just passing through; we won't bother them for long. It's not illegal to fly over anyone's territory."

"You're probably right," said Ozone, in a reluctant tone. He started walking up the stairs to the library. "But I always want everyone to like me."

"That sounds like a you problem."

"Maybe," sighed the SkyWing. He reached the top of the stairs and held the door open so Cornice could pass through. "I can't really help it, though…"

His friend went inside and began to peer around curiously. "Wow, this is not at all what libraries in the Ice Kingdom look like. It's so colorful."

"That's because they want to make it look interesting to little dragonets," Ozone explained, following him inside. "Otherwise they won't learn to care about scrolls."

"Sounds lovely. That's not how it works in the Ice Kingdom, though. If we don't care about scrolls, our mothers just force us to care." Cornice yawned. "Besides, if you don't study, its impossible to keep your rank up. You learn to care pretty quickly."

Ozone yawned too. He felt pretty good, considering how early in the morning it was, but yawns were always contagious. Shaking off the drowsiness it brought on, he approached the counter, where a SeaWing was making notes on a scrap of paper.

The blue dragon looked up. "Welcome to the Possibility Library. How can I help you?"

"Um," said Ozone. "We're about to start traveling, and we were hoping to look at some of your maps before we go. And, uh, maybe you have…" He glanced down at the paper the librarian had been writing on, and saw that the other dragon appeared to have been playing a game of tic-tac-toe against himself. Was he already bored with his job this early in the morning? Maybe it had to do with the fact that there was no one around to talk to. _Ozone, focus,_ the SkyWing reminded himself sternly. _You're in the middle of a conversation here._ He looked back up at the librarian's bemused expression. "An extra scrap of paper we can take? And maybe some ink, if that's not too much to ask for. So we can draw a copy of the map to bring with us."

"Three moons, Ozone," Cornice muttered. "You should've let me do the talking."

Ozone thwacked him with his tail without looking back over his shoulder.

"Sure," said the SeaWing. He leaned over the counter and pointed to the left. Ozone followed his gaze, and saw a series of shelves with neatly organized scrolls. "The maps are over there, in that section by the far wall. Once you find the one you're looking for, bring it to the desk over there and they'll copy it for you." He pointed to a desk not far from the map section, where a RainWing was sitting serenely with her eyes closed.

"Oh, really?" said Ozone. "That's not too much trouble?"

The librarian nodded. "It's part of their job. They've done it so many times that it doesn't take them long at all anymore. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you!" said Ozone, relieved.

"No problem," said the SeaWing, returning to his game of tic-tac-toe.

Cornice had already turned away, and was now walking over to the section the librarian had pointed them to. Ozone bounded to catch up with him.

It didn't take them long to locate the proper scroll. It was a detailed map of the entire continent, with a wide variety of landmarks labeled on it. Cornice paused for a moment, eyeing the map's heavily-inked surface. "This map is really thorough. It even has Frostbite's tree on it." He circled it with one claw, wistfully. "And there are so many places I've never even heard of marked here, in every kingdom. I wonder who traveled through all of Pyrrhia to make something like this."

"Maybe it was a group of dragons," suggested Ozone.

Cornice gave the map another appraising glance, and his expression became wry. "Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if the dragon who made this was once part of Famine's army. They did travel all over the continent as they conquered it. Ha!"

Ozone shrugged. "I don't really see how that makes a difference. It's not like it's invalidated as a source of information just because a soldier who lost the war wrote it."

Cornice rolled up the scroll. "Hmm. It would ruin it a little bit for me though."

"Why?" asked Ozone, mystified, as they headed for the map-keeper's desk. "The dragons in Famine's army were still just ordinary dragons, if you think about it. Our parents were part of that army, once."

Cornice shrugged. "I know. It's not like I look down on them for it, or anything like that. It's just… I don't think someone who went somewhere as part of a conquering force would appreciate the land as much as someone who grew up there. A SandWing could never understand the Ice Kingdom the way an IceWing does."

"I don't know…" Ozone disagreed. "The SandWing could've gotten information straight from the residents. He could have gone to IceWing meeting places, asked for all their stories and all their history and all the cultural importance of those landmarks. He could have really cared about the work he did and the dragons he talked to."

"Maybe," said Cornice, sounding unconvinced.

"You still don't think so," said Ozone.

"Well," said his friend. "I think the only dragon I would believe really feels that way is you." He set the map down on the desk in front of the RainWing, who opened her eyes and looked at the scroll. "We'd like this map copied, please."

She nodded, picking it up with gentle talons. "Sure."

"Do you really think I'm the only dragon who values other tribes' points of view?" asked Ozone, surprised. "That can't be true."

Cornice shrugged. "Well, maybe not the only one who cares at _all_ , but the only one who cares deeply enough to actively seek out everyone else's thoughts and feelings. And I don't necessarily mean just other tribes. I mean other dragons in general. You're the only dragon I've ever met who cares about other dragon's opinions more than you care about your own. You put yourself in other dragon's claws all the time, even dragons who bully you and have seemingly no reason to act the way they do."

Ozone watched the RainWing copy their map. Her claws moved in deft flicks, tracing careful lines along the paper. As she worked, the lines she was copying appeared on her scales, like faint tattoos. He wondered if she noticed she was doing that; it looked like she was just so focused on her work that it was becoming part of her.

"There's always a reason," he said.

"Well, I never really thought the reason mattered before I met you," replied his friend. "Actions speak louder than words, and all that."

"And feelings speak even louder than actions," responded Ozone.

"Yeah, maybe they do, but you can't see or hear or touch feelings," Cornice said, flicking his tail. "You feel your own feelings. You don't feel other dragon's feelings."

"You don't?"

For a moment, Cornice just looked at him, surprised. Then his jaws curved into the hint of a smile. "I guess that's the difference between the two of us."

"Well, I can't always tell what dragons are feeling or thinking," Ozone admitted. "That's why I'm always trying to figure them out. But once I do figure out how they feel, it's like whatever separates our feelings disappears. It's not that I'm trying to empathize with dragons who hate me. I just can't help it. Their point of view replaces mine."

Cornice appeared to consider this for a long time. "I understand. I think. And I think… if I hadn't been raised in the Ice Kingdom, I would say that empathy like yours is a gift. It's more of a gift for dragons around you than it is for you, though."

Ozone couldn't help making a face at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I like you because you're empathetic. But on the other talon, it's also because you're so empathetic that you're thin-scaled and maybe don't like yourself. Feeling other dragons' anger and anxiety and sadness makes you sensitive."

 _Is that the reason?_ wondered Ozone. And also, _He likes me?_

He looked back at the RainWing, who had just finished copying out the map and held it up to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "Your map is done, philosophical dragons. Just give it a moment to dry before you roll it up."

Cornice turned to look at her, surprised, and then laughed. "I didn't realize that you were listening to our conversation. You looked so focused on what you were doing."

The RainWing smiled back. "Well, I can do both. And it was the most interesting conversation I've overheard in quite a while. Especially this early in the morning!"

"Thank you for the map," said Ozone, looking down at it. All of the details on it were exactly the same as the master copy; the descriptions had been printed in tiny, neat handwriting. "Three moons, how did you copy everything so fast?"

The RainWing shrugged. "It's my job. It's been my job for a long time."

Ozone continued studying her work, his eyes eventually coming to rest on their destination. "Can I ask—have you ever been to the Rainforest Kingdom?"

The RainWing shook her head. "Both of my parents hatched there, but I've never been to the rainforest myself. My parents were traveling merchants. Once they realized they were going to have eggs, they settled down here in Possibility."

Ozone wanted to hear more of the story, but Cornice poked him before he could ask any more questions. _Right. We have to get going._

He carefully tapped part of the map with one talon, and then peered at it to make sure none of the ink had come off on his claw. Thankfully, it seemed dry. He rolled it up and looked back at the map artist. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome." Her scales turned a satisfied pink, and Ozone felt contentment bubble up beneath his own in response. _Is that kind of empathy really so unusual?_

Shaking off the thought, he turned and followed Cornice as the other dragonet led the way out of the library and back into the morning sunlight. There were a few more dragons milling around the streets than when they'd first set out. Ozone's gaze traveled curiously over the multi-colored limbs and wings and tails and came to a surprised stop on a familiar-looking grayish dragon standing at the intersection.

He stopped walking. _What is he doing here?_

The SandWing looked up and made eye contact with him. He swept one wing to the ground in front of him, as if inviting Ozone to approach.

"What are you looking at?" asked Cornice, coming back up the stairs when he noticed that Ozone was no longer following him. He followed the SkyWing's gaze to the corner. "Do you know that dragon? Wait, isn't that one of the Tribeless?"

"His name is Gravel," Ozone answered, opening his wings and gliding down the rest of the stairs. Cornice hurried after him, curling his claws as if bracing himself. Ozone lifted his chin, trying to look braver than he felt, as he came to a stop in front of the Tribeless dragon. "What do you want with us? Yesterday, we promised Jackal we wouldn't interfere with your plans. He said that he would let us go in peace."

"Don't worry," the tall SandWing said, flicking his tail. "I'm not here to kill you. Even if Jackal wanted to change his mind that drastically, I wouldn't let him. But we wanted to make sure you actually did leave, instead of hanging around. It's best to be careful, isn't it?"

"You wouldn't let him?" echoed Ozone. "I thought Jackal was your leader. Isn't he the SandWing heir—the dragonet of Famine and Rain Shadow?"

Gravel studied him, as if wondering how he knew. "Yes, he is. Or that's what he claims, anyway. It's useful to have a leader with a pedigree that makes dragons likely to pay attention. Our founder knew what she was doing when she sought him out. But he's also a dragonet. As smart as he is, he doesn't have enough experience to make all the right decisions. So I'm his advisor. His regent, one might even say."

Ozone was surprised that the older dragon was willing to reveal so much; he hadn't really expected an answer. Did Gravel genuinely think that he and Cornice were harmless enough to give information to? Or was he telling them how much influence he had over the Tribeless in order to make them afraid of him?

"Interesting," Ozone said, trying to look totally pacified.

"Hmm," said Gravel, squinting at him suspiciously.

Ozone held up his talons. "Sorry! I'm just curious. Too nosy for my own good."

"Indeed," said Gravel, arching his neck back in an amused-looking way. "I hope you realize that your nosiness is what started this whole mess in the first place. And the more messes you cause, the more likely it'll be that someone does decide to kill you."

"Well," said Ozone, edging away. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Yes, let's hurry up and get out of here," Cornice jumped in. Ozone glanced over and saw that the IceWing was giving him a meaningful look. But what did it mean? Was it really just a _we have to go_ look, or could it be a _there's something super urgent that I have to talk to you about as soon as we get away from this SandWing_ look?

Gravel put his wings back. "I'll walk with you to the edge of town."

 _To make sure we really, truly do leave,_ Ozone realized. _It's a good thing we're not heading straight for the Rainforest Kingdom! When we fly off into the mountains, he'll have no idea that we're actually going across to the Mud Kingdom._

The three of them walked in silence until they reached the familiar-looking stone archway that marked the edge of the city. It seemed like it had been months since Ozone had first come here with his friends. The SandWings. Why did he still think of them as his friends?

Behind him and Cornice, Gravel came to a stop, waiting.

"Um." Ozone twisted around to face him. "Good luck with… um, everything."

Gravel raised his eyebrows, and then lowered his wings. Ozone's words seemed to have the effect he'd intended; the SandWing looked a lot less suspicious than he had earlier. Maybe, just maybe, this timid, useless SkyWing had managed to convince the Tribeless that he actually wanted them to succeed.

"Good luck to you, too, I suppose," said the older dragon.

"Thanks," said Ozone, automatically. After holding Gravel's unfathomable dark gaze for a moment longer, he turned and leapt into the air. As he and Cornice flew away towards the mountains, he forced himself not to look back.

 _It's time. We're off to the rainforest._


End file.
